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THE 



PRIMARY 



STANDARD SPEAKER. 



CONTAINING 



ORIGINAL AND SELECTED PIECES, 



ESPECIALLY ADAPTED TO 



DECLAMATION. 



FOR THE YOUNGEST PUPILS. 



EPES SAEGENT, 

AUTHOB OF THE "STANDARD SPEAKER," "THE INTERMEDIATE STANDAED SPEAKER," 
"THE STANDARD SERIES OF READERS," ETC. 



•Vv^ITH IIuIjXJSTI?,-A.TI0 3>TS. 




Of' 



PHILADELPHIA : 
PUBLISHED BY CHARLES DESILTER. 

18 57. 



c^3 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year Eighteen Hundred and Fifty- 
Seven, by Epes Sargent, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United 
States for the District of Massachusetts. 



Hr Publishers and compilers are notified that many of the pieces in this volume 
are original, and protected by the copyright. 



PREFACE. 



The present work is the smallest of a series of three Speakers, of 
which the Standard Speaker is the first and largest, and the Intermediate 
Standard Speaker the second in size and importance. 

The fault found with most compilations of this rank is, that the pieces 
proposed for declamation do not differ, in their level tone, from those 
in ordinary reading-books. I have endeavored to avoid this objection, 
and to present such exercises as are especially suited to be committed to 
memory and spoken by the young. 

Many of these exercises, some without names of authors, and others 
with various names appended, are now for the first time published. They 
include several of the translations from French and German writers, and, 
being original, are protected by the copyright. AVhile I have retained 
many favorite old pieces, which could not well be dispensed with, much 
that is wholly new will accordingly be found in the present volume. 



BLECTROTYFKD BY HOBABT AND BOBBINS, BOSTON. 



TABLE OF CONTENTS, 



PROSE. 



PAGE 

The Studious Boy, . . .\ 5 

A Boy's Speech, 6 

Forget your Injuries, 8 

The Seasons, .... Mrs. Barbauld, 10 
American Boys to Gen. Howe, . . . .13 

The Idle Young Man, 17 

Return of Refugees, . Patrick Henry, 20 

Rolla's Speech, Sheridan, 23 

Duties to our Country, . . Webster, 27 
True Honor of a Country, Channing,, 30 
"War Inevitable, . . Patrick Henry, 33 

Washington to his Soldiers, 34 

America Unconquerable, . Chatham, 36 
Reply to Grafton, .... Thurlow, 40 
Our Duties as Americans, . Webster, 53 
Appeal to Arms, . . Patrick Henry, 56 
T '•ighteous Measures, . . Chatham, 58 

S^^ech of Min-ne-vah, 62 

Against Civil Discord, .... Clay, 64 
Liberty and Union, .... Webster, 66 

Speech of Logan, 69 

Pleasures thai; do not Fail, 76 

T 'Hus on Caesar's Death, Shakspeare, 79 
ils of the Sea, 80 



PAGE 

Passage of the Rubicon, . Knowles, 83 
A Pieman to his Soldiers, Marmontel, 85 

The Foot-Ball Orators, 89 

The True Life, . F. D. Huntington, 97 
Supposed Speech of Adams,^e&s^er, 99 
The Man of Integrity, .... Blair, 105 
Spartacus to the Gladiators, .... 110 

The War-Horse, Job, 111 

Folly of Pride, . . . Sidney Smith, 113 
On Employing Indians, . Chatham, 113 

Education, H. Fail, 119 

Speech of a Choctaw Chief, 126 

David's Lament, Bible, 130 

Speech of Red Jacket, 135 

R^ply to Corry, Grattan, 139 

Have a Purpose,' Lytton, 142 

Our Churches and School-Houses, . . 143 

What is Property ? 149 

The Thunder-Shower, 152 

Speech of a Pocomtuck Indian, . . . 152 
Great Results from Small Causes, . . 154 
Common Bounties, ........ 155 

The Step-Ladder, 157 

The Statue of Wan-en, , . Everett, 157 



POETRY, 



Small Service is True Service, .... 7 

The Contented Blind Boy, . . Cibber, 9 

*" ist Not to Appearances, Osborne, 12 

10 Stole the Nest ? . . Mrs. Child, 14 

The Present, Cotton, 17 

I Remember, I Remember, . . Hood, 19 
The Excellent Man, . . . . Heine, 21 

Hohenlinden, Campbell, 22 

On the Yowels, Swift, 24 

■^" It the Mother Heard, 25 

juld if I Could, 26 

Tne Exile of Cloudland, 28 

By-and-By, Blanchard, 29 

Little Things, 30 

The Wounded Eagle, . . . Hemans, 31 

The Pleasant Holiday, 32 

The Senses, 33 

The Paper Kite, Newton, 35 

The Lobsters, Punch, 37 

T-Have and 0-Had-I, 39 

iS thy Day, thy Strength, . . Allyn, 41 



Contented John, . . Emily Taylor, 47 

The Mimic, 48 

The Lesson of Love, , . 49 

Kindness, 52 

Harry's Terrible Adventure, .... 54 

Nero, Osborne, 57 

Bruce to his Troops, .... Burns, 59 

Water for Me, Johnson, 60 

Old Grimes, Greene, 61 

Warren to his Men, . , . Pierpont, 63 
Life without Freedom, . . . Moore, 64 
The Juvenile Orator, . . D. Everett, 65 

Paraphrase, Addison, 67 

The Farmer and Landlord, Boothby, 68 

The Snow-Hut, 70 

Youthful Piety, 71 

The Departing Swallows, . . Hayley, 72 

True Comeliness, 72 

The Dying Chief, 73 

The Pilot, 74 

The Union, .,,... Longfellow, 75 

(3) 



IV 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

The Bird to the Sportsman, 76 

Not to Myself Alone, 77 

The Way to be Happy, 79 

The Miser and the Mouse, Cowper^ 81 

Love of Country, Scott^ 81 

The Call of Samuel, . . . Cawood^ 82 

Casablanca, Hemansy 84 

The Seasons, 86 

The Fir-Tree : a Fable, 87 

The Life of a Bird, 88 

A Character, .... J. G. Grant, 91 

Precepts, T. Randolph, 92 

Rienzi to the Romans, . . Mitford, 92 
Appeal of Children, .... Howitt, 93 
The Soldier's Dream, . . Campbell, 94 
Good Advice, . . . Horace Smith, 95 

The Reformed Lap-Dog, 96 

Coquetry and Sincerity, 98 

Rise Early, 100 

The Boasting Traveler, 101 

The Chameleon, 102 

A Hymn of Liberty, Dublin Nation, 102 

The Hidden Treasure, 103 

The Skater's Song, 104 

The Words of Hope, 106 

The Butterfly's Ball, .... Roscoe, 108 
The Child's Fu-st Grief, . Uemans, 112 

Delay Not, 114 

The Spider and the Fly, . . Howitt, 115 
The Use of Flowers, .... Howitt, 117 

The Alarm, Whittier, 118 

A Winter Sermon, 118 



PAGB 

Thanksgiving Hymn, 120 

Horatius, Macaulay, 121 

Life Compared to a River, 122 

The Lion and the Goats, 123 

A Prayer, Thomson, 123 

New Year's Address to Children, . . 126 
Domestic Harmony, Mrs. H. More, 12S 

The Best Wish, Bayly, 129 

Lucy's Lamb, 130 

Song of the Mountain Boy, 131 

The Three Homes, 132 

Virtue and Error, 133 

Our Favorite Place, 134 

Work and Play, 134 

True Friendship, 136 

Charming Little Valley, 136 

Speak not Harshly, 137 

There 's Work Enough to Do, . . • . 139 

The Life-Boat, 140 

The Moonlight March, . . . Heher, 141 

The Esquimaux Kayak, 144 

A Mother's Gift, .... Kennedy, 147 

Corn-Fields, Howitt, 148 

Early Rising, Thomson, 150 

The Bobolink and the Sportsman, . . 151 
The Wolf and the Kid : a Fable, . . 153 
Saul, before his Last Battle, . Byron, 155 
Execution of Andrew Hofer, . . . .156 

The Help of the Humble, 158 

The Prussian General on the Rhine, . 159 
The Better Land, .... Hemans, 159 



DIALOGUES . 



How to Tell Bad News, 38 

The Fractious Man, 42 

Roderick Dhu and Fitz-James, Scott, 44 
Alexander and the Robber, . Aikin^ 45 



Quarrel of the Authors, ...... 50 

Hector and Andromache, . . Pope, 107 
Not an Uncommon Complaint, . . . 124 
The Frenchman's Lesson in English, 145 



S A R G E N T'S 

PRIMARY 

STANDAED SPEAKEE. 




THE STUDIOUS BOY. 

See him at his book. He has a piece to declaim at school. 
Do you want to know what he is doing ? He is looking out 
in the dictionary every doubtful word in his piece. He does 
not mean to make a blunder, if he can help it. 

There are some common words, about the pronunciation of 
which he is almost sure, but not quite. He looks out the 
word hearth^ for he heard a boy, the other day, pronounce it 
as if it rhymed with earth. But he finds that ea in hearth 
ought to have the sound it has in heart. 

He looks out the words heard^ evil, even, and heaven. 
What common words ! But he has heard them mispronounced. 
He finds that the ea in heard has the sound of e in her ; that 
1* 



6 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

the i in evil, and the e in the last syllables in heaven and even, 
are not sounded. 

After he has learnt how to pronounce all the words in his 
piece, he will declaim it aloud by himself, till he can repeat it 
all without looking on the book. If there is any sentence 
which he does not understand in his piece, he will ask his 
mother or his teacher to explain it. 

The studious boy can play as well as study. He does not 
pore over his book too long. He will go and play at ball, or 
take a walk with his sister, as soon as he has finished his 
lesson in pronunciation. The studious boy will be a good 
speaker, for he sets about his task in earnest, and tak^s the 
right means. If you would succeed in any thing, be in 
earnest. 



A BOY'S SPEECH AGAINST SHOOTINa BIRDS. 

BoYS, I have mounted this stump to speak my mind about 
shooting birds for sport. I know four or five fellows who go 
about with bows and arrows, and pistols, and shoot at robins, 
blackbirds, bobolinks, and sparrows, without caring for them 
when they are killed, but doing it merely to show that they 
can take good aim. Now, I 'm a small boy, but I don't care 
who hears me when I say that the practice is mean and cruel. 

Any farmer will tell you that the birds do more good than 
harm. They destroy insects and vermin. A woodpecker 
will clear a tree of worms that would have lodged beneath the 
bark and sapped the life of the trunk. A robin, while he 
puts his bill into your best cherries, will do you service in 
keeping ofi" rose-bugs and other enemies. I say nothing about 
the cheering songs and pleasant warbling of the birds. The 
boy who does not love to hear them has no music in his soul. 
But just think of the folly and cruelty of shooting them ; — 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER, 7 

the folly, in killing the friends of your trees ; the cruelty, in 
killing them wantonly, and at seasons when they have young 
ones to take care of ! 

Heaven has given us power over the poor dumb animals. 
We may kill them for food, — making them suffer as little as 
possible. But to kill any one for mere sport is a hateful 
practice. I love to see animals enjoying life. Especially I 
love to see and hear the birds. Never will I knowingly play 
with the boy who kills them for his amusement merely. 
Never will I blend my pleasure or my pride " with sorrow of 
the meanest thing that feels." charles. 

Study to articulate your words distinctly, and pronounce them aright. 
In the preceding piece do not slur the t in insects ; give the th in be- 
neath its Yocal sound, as in breathe ; give the o in nothing the sound 
of short w, as in hut; give the ing its full sound, as in king ; give 
the ow in fellow, arroWy sorrow, &C.5 the sound of long ; do not say 
feller, &c. 



SMALL SERVICE IS TRUE SERVICE. 

What if a drop of rain should plead, 

" So small a drop as I 
Can ne'er refresh the thirsty mead : 

I '11 tarry in the sky ! " 

What if the shininoj beam of noon 
Should in its fountain stay. 

Because its feeble light alone 
Can not create a day ! 

Does not each rain-drop help to form 
The cool, refreshing shower ? 

And every ray of light to warm 
And beautify the flower ? 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 




FORGET YOUR INJURIES. 

Unwise and unhappy is he who can not forgive and forget 
his injuries. The remembrance of them will come like a dark 
shadow across his heart, and embitter every fount of happi- 
ness. The de'mon of hate will reign in his bosom, and make 
him, of all accountable creatures, the most miserable. 

Have you been injured in purse or in character ? Let the 
smiling angel of forgiveness drive every resentful feeling from 
your soul, and shed its sunshine around your thoughts. Study 
not how you may revenge yourself, but study how you may 
return good for evil. 

There was once a good bishop, named Boulter, whose con- 
stant habit it was to forgive all those who injured him ; and 
the consequence was that he always enjoyed peace of mind. 
The followinor lines were written on him after his death. 
Who would not desire such an epitaph ? 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

" Some write their wrongs in marble ; — he, more just, 
Stooped down serene, and wrote them in the dust ; 
There trod them down, the sport of every wind, 
Swept from the earth, and blotted from his mind : 
There, buried and effaced, he bade them lie, 
And grieved they could not 'scape the Almighty's eye." 



THE COXTEXTED BLIND BOY. 

! SAY, what IS that thing called light, 
Which I must ne'er enjoj? 

What are the blessings of the sight ? 
! tell a poor blind boy ! 

You talk of wondrous things j on' see : 
You say the sun shines bright ; 

1 feel him warm, but how can he 

Or make it day or night? 

My day or night myself I make 

Whene'er I sleep or play ; 
And could I always keep awake. 

With me 't were always day. 

With heavy sighs I often hear 

You mourn my hapless woe ; 
But sure with patience I can bear 

A loss I ne'er can know. 

Then let not what I can not have 

My cheer of mind destroy ; 
While thus I sing, I am a king, 

Although a poor blind boy. 

CIBBEK. 



10 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 



THE SEASONS. 
Spring^ 
Who is this beautiful virgin that approaches, clothed in a 
robe of light green ? She has a garland of flowers on her 
head, and flowers spring up wherever she sets her foot. The 
snow which covered the fields, and the ice which was in the 
rivers, melt away when she breathes upon them. The young 
lambs frisk about her, and the birds warble in their little 
throats, to welcome her coming ; and when they see her, they 
begin to choose their mates, and to build their nests. Youths 
and maidens, have you seen this beautiful virgin ? If you 
have, tell me who is she, and what is her name. 

Who is this that comes from the south, thinly clad in a 
light, transparent garment ? Her breath is hot and sultry ; 
she seeks the refreshment of the cool shade ; she seeks the 
clear streams, the crystal brooks, to bathe her languid limbs. 
The brooks and rivulets fly from her, and are dried up at her 
approach. She cools her parched lip with berries, and the 
grateful acid of fruits, the seedy melon, the sharp apple, and 
the red pulp of the juicy cherry, which are poured out plen- 
tifully around her. The tanned hay-makers welcome her 
coming ; and the sheep-shearer, who clips the fleeces of his 
flock with his sounding shears. When she comes, let me lie 
under the thick shade of a spreading beech-tree ; let me walk 
with her in the early morning, when the dew is yet upon the 
grass; let me wander with her in the soft twilight, when, 
the shepherd shuts his fold, and the star of evening appears. 
Youths and maidens, tell me, if you know, who is she, and 
what is her name. 



THE PEIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 11 

is he that comes with sober pace, stealing upon us 
unawares ? His garments are red with the blood of the 
grape, and his temples are bound with a sheaf of ripe wheat. 
His hair is thin and begins to fall, and the auburn is mixed 
with mournful gray. He shakes the brown nuts from the 
tree. He winds the horn, and calls the hunters to their 
sports. The gun sounds. The trembling partridge and the 
beautiful pheasant flutter, bleeding, in the air, and fall dead 
at the sportsman's feet. Who is he that is crowned with the 
wheat-sheaf? Youths and maidens, tell me, if you know, 
who is he, and what is his name. 

ff! ffilinttr. 

Who is he that comes from the north, clothed in furs and 
warm wool ? He wraps his cloak close about him. His 
head is bald ; his beard is made of sharp icicles. He loves 
the blazing fire, high piled upon the hearth. He binds skates 
to his feet, and skims over the frozen lakes. His breath is 
piercing and cold, and no little flower peeps above the surface 
of the ground when he is by. Whatever he touches turns to 
ice. If he were to strike you with his cold hand, you would 
be quite stiff and dead, like a piece of marble. Youths and 
maidens, do you see him ? He is coming fast upon us, and 
soon ho will be here. Tell me, if you know, vrho is he, and 
what is his name. barbauld. 

Give the oa in throat the sound of long o ; the ph in pheasant the 
sound of/; the eain hearth the sound of a m father, Sound the 
aspirate in wheat. The ee in been has the sound of short i, as in pin ; 
the ai in again, against, has the sound of short c, ^s, in pen ; the o in 
none has the sound of short u, as in gun. In get, yet, forget, &c., 
give the e the sound it has in pen. Do not say git, yit, &c. The t and 
e in often are not sounded. Do not say jest instead of just, or sence 
instead of since. 



12 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 




TRUST NOT TO APPEARANCES. 

Early one day in leafy June, 
When brooks and birds are all in tune, 
A Quaker, on a palfrey brown, 
Was riding over Horsley Down. 

Though he could see no houses near, 

He trotted on without a fear ; 

For not a thief upon the road 

Would guess where he his cash had stowed. 

As thus he went — that Quaker sly — 
Another Quaker trotted by : — 
" Stop, brother," said the first ; " the weather 
Is pleasant — let us chat together." 

" Nay," said the stranger, " know'st thou not 
That this is a suspected spot ? 
That robbers here resort, my brother ? " — 
" A fig for robbers ! " said the other : 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 13 

" I 've all mj money in a note, 

And that is hid — not in my coat — 

But — '' — " Where ? " the other asked. — " Behold ! " — 

" What ! in your shoe ? " — " The secret 's told ! 

" You see, it has a double sole : 
Within that I have hid the whole : 
Now, where 's the robber who would think 
Of ever looking there for chink ? " — 

** Here ! " cried the stranger ; "so dismount, 
And straightway render an account : 
I 'm Captain Bibb, the robber trim ; 
So hand your money quick to him ! 

" Don't tremble — all you 've got to do, 
You know, is to take off your shoe ; 
And for your money I will give 
Advice shall serve you while you live. 

" Don't take each broad-brim chance may send, 
Though plain his collar, for a Friend * 
Don't trust in gentleman or clown 
While riding over Horsley Down." ^„ ^ 

o ^ OSBORNE. 



AMERICAN BOYS TO GENERAL HOWE. 

At the time the British held possession of Boston, during the Rer- 
olution, a party of boys, who had been molested by the king's soldiers, 
went to the British commander, and made complaint, after the following 
manner : 

" We have come, General Howe, to make our complaints 
at head-quarters, against your soldiers. They persist in 
plaguing us at our sports ; and we are resolved not to stand it 
2 



14 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

any longer. If we raise a kite, some of your red-coats will 
come along and cut the string. If we play at ball, they will 
pick up the ball, and throw it where we can not find it. They 
have scattered our marbles. They have spoiled our coasting- 
grounds. They have cut up the ice on the Frog Pond, so 
that we might not slide and skate. In every way they try 
to molest and provoke us. We are American boys. General 
Howe, and we have a right to play on the Common, and your 
soldiers have no right to prevent us. We have heard that \ 
you are a just man ; and we are here to ask you to put a stop 
at once to these practices on the part of your soldiers. We 
thank you for hearing us so attentively; we see by your 
friendly looks that our complaints will not pass unheeded. 
We shall clear another coasting-ground this afternoon, and 
we shall look to you, sir, to protect us in our rights, and for- 
bid all annoyances from your soldiers. If you will not do 
this, Greneral Howe, we must protect ourselves ; for we are 
determined never to surrender the smallest of our rights — 
no, not to the king himself.'^ 



WHO STOLE THE BIRD'S NEST? 

To whit ! To whit ! To whee ! 
Will you listen to me ? 
Who stole four eggs I laid, 
And the nice nest I made ? 

Not I, said the cow, Moo-oo ! 
Such a thing I 'd never do. 
I gave you a wisp of hay, 
But did n't take your nest away. 
Not I, said the cow, Moo-oo ! 
Such a thing I 'd never do. 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 15 

To whit ! To whit ! To whee I 
Will you listen to me ? 
Who stole four eggs I laid, 
And the nice nest I made? 

Bobolink ! Bobolink ! 

Now, what do you think? ' 

Who stole a nest away 

From the plum-tree to-day ? 

Not I, said the dog, Bow-wow, 
I would n't be so mean, I vow. 
I gave hairs the nest to make. 
But the nest I did not take. 
Not I, said the dog, Bow-wow I 
I would n't be so mean, I vow. 

To whit ! To whit ! To whee ! 
Will you listen to me ? 
Who stole four eggs I laid, 
And the nice nest I made ? . 

Bobolink ! Bobolink ! 
Now, what do you think? 
Who stole a nest away 
From the plum-tree to-day ? 

Coo-coo ! Coo-coo ! Coo-coo ! 
Let me speak a word, too. 
Who stole that pretty nest, 
From little yellow-breast ? 

Not I, said the sheep ; 0, no, 
I would n't treat a poor bird so. 



1^ THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

I gave wool the nest to line, 
But the nest was none of mine. 
Baa, baa ! said the sheep ; 0, no, 
I would n't treat a poor bird so. 

To whit ! To whit ! To whee ! 
Will you listen to me ? 
Who stole four eggs I laid, 
And the nice nest I made ? 

Bobolink ! Bobolink ! ^ 
Now, what do you think ? 
Who stole a nest away 
From the plum-tree to-day ? . 

Coo-coo ! Coo-coo ! Coo ! 
Let me speak a word, too. 
Who stole that pretty nest 
From little yellow-breast? 

Caw ! Caw ! cried the crow, 
I should like to know 
What thief took away 
A bird's nest to-day ? 

Cluck ! cluck ! said the hen, 
Don't ask me again ! 
Why, I have n't a chick 
Would do such a trick. 

We all gave her a feather, 
And she wove them together. 
I 'd scorn to intrude 
On her and her brood. 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 17 

Cluck ! cluck ! said the hen, 
Pon't ask me again. 

Chirr-a-whirr ! Chirr-a-whirr ! 
We will make a great stir ! 
Let us find out his name, 
And all cry, For shame ! 

I would not rob a bird, 

Said little Mary Grreen ; 
I think I never heard 

Of any thing so mean. 

'T is very cruel, too, 
• Said little Alice Neal ; 
I wonder if he knew 

How sad the bird would feel ? 

A little boy hung down his head, 
And went and hid behind the bed ; 
For he stole that pretty nest 
From poor little yellow-breast ; 
And he felt so fall of shame, 
He did n't like to tell his name. 

MRS. CHILD 



THE PRESENT. 
Arrest the 'present moment ; stay its flight ; 
Imprint the marks of wisdom on its wings : 
'T is of more worth than kingdoms ; far more precious 
Than all the richest treasures of the earth ! 
! let it not elude thy grasp ; but, like 
The good old patriarch of God's holy word. 
Hold the fleet angel fast until he bless thee ! 

COTTON. 



18 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

THE IDLE YOUNG MAN. 
" The world owes me a living." Such were the words 
heard fall, the other day, from the lips of an idle young man. 
The world owes you a living ? No such thing, Mr. Fold-up- 
your-hands ! The world owes you not a single cent ! You 
have done nothing these twenty years but consume the prod- 
ucts earned by the sweat of other men's brows : 

" You have eaten, and drunken, and slept ; — what then? I 

Why, eaten, and drunken, and slept again." I 

And this is the sum total of your life ! And the world, 
you say, " owes you a living " ! For what ? How came it 
indebted to you? What have you done for it? What 
family in distress have you befriended ? What products 
have you created ? What miseries have you alleviated ? 
What errors have you removed ? What arts have you per- 
fected 7 

The world owes you a living, idle man ? Never was there 
a more absurd idea ! You have been a tax — a sponge upon 
the world ever since you came into it. It is your creditor to 
a vast amount. Your liabilities are immense, your assets are 
nothing, and yet you say the world is owing you ! Go to ! 
The amount in which you stand indebted to the world is 
greater than you will ever have the power to liquidate ! 

You owe the world the labor of your two strong arms, 
and all the skill in work they might have gained ; you owe 
the world the labor of that brain of yours, the sympathies of 
that heart, the energies of your being ; you owe the world the 
whole moral and intellectual capabilities of a man ! Awake, 
then, from that dreamy, do-nothing state of slothfulness in 
which you live, and let us no longer hear the assertion that 
the world is owing you, until you have done something to 
satisfy the world's just demand ! 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 



19 




I REMEiMBER, I REJMEMBER. 

I REMEMBER, I remember, 

The house where I was born, 
The little window where the sun 

Came peeping in at morn ; 
He never came a wink too soon, 

Nor brought too long a day, 
But now I often wish the night 

Had borne my breath away ! 

I remember, I remember, 

The roses red and white, 
The violets and the lily-cups, 

Those flowei:s made of light ! 
The lilacs where the robin built, 

And where my brother set 
The laburnum on his birth-day — 

The tree is living yet ! 



20 THE nilMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

I remember, I remember, 

Where I was used to swing, 
And thought the air must rush as fresh 

To swallows on the wing ; 
My spirit flew in feathers then, 

That is so heavy now, 
And summer pools could hardly cool 

The fever on my brow ! 

I remember, I remember, 

The fir-trees dark and high ; 
I used to think their slender tops 

Were close against the sky : 
It was a childish ignorance, 

But now 't is little joy 
To know I 'm further off from heaven 

Than when I was a boy. hood. 



ON THE RETURN OF BRITISH REFUGEES. 

Sir, let but Liberty stretch forth her fair hand to the people 
of the Old World, tell them to come, and bid them welcome, 
and you will see them pouring in from the north and from the 
south, from the east and from the west ; your wildernesses 
will be cleared and settled; your deserts will smile; your 
ranks will be filled ; and you will soon be in a condition to 
defy the power of any adversary. 

But gentlemen object to any accession from Great Britain; 
and particularly to the return of the British refugees. Sir, I 
feel no objection to the return of those deluded people. They 
have, to be sure, mistaken their own interests most wofully, 
and most wofully have they suffered the punishment due to 
their offenses. But the relations which we bear to them and 



THE PllIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 21 

to their native country are now changed : their king has ac- 
knowledged our independence ; the quarrel is over ; peace 
has returned, and found us a free people. 

Sir, let us have the magnanimity to lay aside our antipa- 
thies and prejudices, and consider the subject in a political 
light. They are an enterprising, moneyed people. They will 
be serviceable in taking off the surplus produce of our lands, 
and supplying us with necessaries during the infant state of 
our manufactures. Even if they be inim'ical to us, in point 
of feeling and principle, I can see no objection, in a political 
view, in making them tributary to our advantage. And as I 
have no prejudices to prevent my making use of them, so I 
have no fear of any mischief that they can do us. Afraid 
of them I — What ! shall we, who have laid the proud British 
lion at our feet, now be afraid of his whelps ? 

p. HENRY. 



THE EXCELLENT MAN. 

They gave me advice and counsel in store, 
Praised me and honored me, more and more ; 
Said that I only should " wait a while," 
Offered their patronage, too, with a smile. 

But, with all their honor and approbation, 
I should, long ago, have died of starvation, 
Had there not come an excellent man, 
Who bravely to help me along began. 

Good fellow ! he got me the food I ate, 

His kindness and care I shall never forget ; 

Yet I can not embrace him, though other folks can : - 

For I myself am this excellent man. 

•^ HEINE. 



22 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 




THE BATTLE OF HOHENLINDEN. 

Hohenlinden is a village in Bavaria, in which a bloody battle was 
fought, 3d December, 1800, between the Austrians and the French. 

On Linden, when the sun was low, 
All bloodless lay the untrodden snow, 
And dark as winter was the flow 
Of Iser, rolling rapidly. 

But Linden saw another sight, 
When the drum beat, at dead of night. 
Commanding fires of death to light 
The darkness of her scenery. 

By torch and trumpet fast arrayed, 
Each horseman drew his battle blade, 
And furious every charger neighed, 
To join the dreadful revelry. 

Then shook the hills with thunder riven, 
Then rushed the steeds to battle driven, 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER, 2S 

And, louder than the bolts of Heaven, 
Far flashed the red artillery. 

And redder yet those fires shall glow 
On Linden's hills of blood-stained snow, 
And darker yet shall be the flow 
Of Iser, rolling rapidly. 

'T is morn, but scarce yon lurid sun 
Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun. 
Where furious Frank and fiery Hun 
Shout, in their sulphurous canopy. 

The combat deepens. On, ye brave. 
Who rush to glory, or the grave ! 
Wave, Munich, all thy banners wave ! 
And charge with all thy chivalry ! 

Ah ! few shall part where many meet ! 
The snow shall be their winding sheet, 
And every turf, beneath their feet, 
Shall be a soldier's sepulcher. 

CAMPBELL. 
Iser "we pronounce E'ser ; Munich, Mu'nlk; chivalry , shiv'alry. 



ROLLA'S SPEECH. 



My brave associates, — partners of my toil, my feelings, 
and my fame ! — can E-oUa's words add vigor to the virtuous 
energies which inspire your hearts ? No I You have judged, 
as I have, the foulness of the crafty plea by which these bold 
invaders would delude you. Your generous spirit has com- 
pared, as mine has, the motives which, in a war like this, can 
animate their minds and ours. They, by t strange frenzy 



24 THE PRIMAP.y STANDARD SPEAKER. 

driven, fight for power, for plunder, and extended rule ; we, 
for our country, our altars, and our homes. They follow an 
adventurer whom they fear, and obey a power which they 
hate ; we serve a monarch whom we love — a God whom we 
adore. 

Whene'er they move in anger, desolation tracks their prog- 
ress ! Whene'er they pause in amity, affliction mourns their 
friendship ! They boast they come but to improve our state, 
enlarge our thoughts, and free us from the yoke of error ! 
Yes ; they will give enlightened freedom to our minds, who 
are themselves the slaves of passion, avarice, and pride ! They 
offer us their protection ! Yes, such protection as vultures give 
to lambs, covering and devouring them ! They call on us to 
barter all of good we have inherited and proved, for the des- 
perate chance of something better, which they promise. Be 
our plain answer this : The throne we honor is the people's 
choice ; the laws we reverence are our brave fathers' legacy ; 
the faith we follow teaches us to live in bonds of charity with 
all mankind, and die with hope of bliss beyond the grave. 
Tell your invaders this ; and tell them, too, we seek tw 
change ; and, least of all, such change as they would bring us. 

SHERIDAN. 



ON THE VOWELS. 

We are little airy creatures. 

All of different voice and features. 

One of us in glass is set. 

One of us you '11 find in jet. 

T' other you may see in tin. 

And the fourth a box within. 

If the fifth you should pursue, 

It can never fly from you, swift. 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 25 

WHAT THE MOTHER HEARD. 

As I walked over the kills, one day, 

I listened, and heard a mother-sheep say : 

" In all the green world there is nothing so sweet 

As my little lammie with his nimble feet, 

With his eyes so bright, 

And his wool so white, 
0, he is my darling, my heart's delight ! 

The robin, he 

That sings in the tree, 
Dearly may dote on his darlings four, 
But I love my one little lambkin more." 
So the mother-sheep and the little one 
Side by side lay down in the sun. 
And they went to sleep on the hillside warm, 
While my little lammie lies here on my arm. 

I went to the kitchen, and what did I see 
But the old gray cat, with her kittens three : 
I heard her whispering soft. Said she : 
" My kittens, with tails so cunningly curled, 
Are the prettiest things there can be in the world. 

The bird in the tree, 

And the old ewe, she 
May love their babies exceedingly ; 
But I love my kittens from morn to night ; 
Which is the prettiest I can not tell, — 
Which of the three, for the life of me, — 
I love them all so well. 

So I'll take up the kittens, the kittens I love, 
And we '11 lie down together, beneath the warm stove." 
So the kittens lie under the stove so warm. 
While my little darling lies here on my arm. 



*M THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

I went to the yard, and I saw the old hen 

Gro clucking about with her chickens ten ; 

And she clucked, and she scratched, and she bristled away, 

And what do you think I heard the hen say ? 

I heard her say, " The sun never did shine 

On any thing like to these chickens of mine ; 

You may hunt the full moon, and the stars, if you please, 

But you never will find ten such chickens as these. 

The cat loves her kittens, the ewe loves her lamb, 

But they know not what a proud mother I am ; 

For lambs or for kittens I won't part with these, 

Though the sheep and the cat should go down on their knees. 

My dear downy darlings, my sweet little things, 

Come, nestle now cosily under my wings." 

So the hen said, 

And the chickens sped 
As fast as they could to their warm feather-bed ; 
And there let them lie, on their feathers so warm. 
While my little chicken lies here on my arm. 



I WOULD IF I COULD. 
" I WOULD if I could," though much it 's in use, 
Is but a mistaken and sluggish excuse ; 
And many a person who coidd if he ivould 
Is often heard saying, "I would if I could." 

" Come, John," said a schoolboy, " now do not refuse, — 
Come, solve me this problem, — you can if you choose." 
But John at that moment was not in the mood. 
And yawningly answered, " I would if I could." 

At the door of a mansion, a child thinly clad, 

While the cold wind blew freely, was begging for bread ; 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 2*J 

A rich man passed by her as trembling she stood, — 
He answered her coldly, " I would if I could." 

The scholar receiving his teacher's advice. 
The swearer admonished to quit such a vice, 
The child when requested to try and be good, 
Oft give the same answer, — "I would if I could." 

But, if we may credit what good people say, 
That where a strong will is, there 's always a way, 
And whatever ought to be can be and should^ 
We never need utter, " I would if I could." 



OUR DUTIES TO OUR COUNTRY. 

Our proper business is improvement. Let our age be the 
age of improvement. In a day of peace, let us advance the 
arts of peace, and the works of peace. Let us develop the 
resources of our land, call forth its powers, build up its insti- 
tutions, promote all its great interests, and see whether we 
also, in our day and generation, may not perform something 
worthy to be remembered. 

Let us cultivate a true spirit of union and harmony. In 
pursuing the great objects which our condition points out to 
us, let us act under a settled conviction, and a habitual feel- 
ing, that these States are one country. Let our conceptions 
be enlarged to the circle of our duties. Let us extend our 
ideas over the whole of the vast field in which we are called 
to act. 

Let our object be, our country, our whole country, and 
NOTHING but OUR COUNTRY. And, by the blessing of God, 
may that country itself become a vast and splendid Monu- 
ment, not of oppression and terror, but of Wisdom, of Peace, 
and of Liberty, upon which the world may gaze, with admira- 
tion, for ever ! webster. 



28 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

THE EXILE OF CLOUBLAND. 

When I was a dweller in Cloudland, 
I dwelt in a rich and a proud land ; 
I was lord of the clime, 
I was king of the time ; 
And the sun and the shower, 
The leaf and the flower, 
All came to my bidding in Cloudland. 

I was monarch supreme in my Cloudland, 
I was master of fate in that proud land ; 
I would not endure 
That a grief without cure, 
A love that could end, 
Or a false-hearted friend, 
Should dwell for an instant in Cloudland. 

My Cloudland, my beautiful Cloudland, 
I made thee a great and a proud land : 
With skies ever bright. 
And with hearts ever light ; — 
Neither sorrow nor sin 
Found a harbor within. 
And love was the law of my Cloudland. 

But, alas for myself and my proud land ! 

There came revolution in Cloudland ; 
My people, untrue, 
Eroke my scepter in two, 
And, false to their vow. 
Took the crown from my brow, 

And banished me far from my Cloudland. 

My Cloudland, my beautiful Cloudland, 
How happy was I in that proud land ! 



THE PlilMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 29 

All the wisdom I 've won, 
Since my realm was undone, 
Is but poor to repay 
What I lost in the day 
When I turned my last looks upon Cloudland. 

0, ye thoughts and ye feelings of Cloudland ! 
Ye died when I quitted that proud land ! 

I wander discrowned. 

On a bare chilly ground; 

An exile forlorn. 

Weary, weary, and worn, 
Never more to revisit my Cloudland. 



BY-AND-BY. 



There 's a little mischief-making 

Elfin, who is ever nigh. 
Thwarting every undertaking, 

And his name is " By-and-By." 
What we ought to do this minute 

Will be better done, he 11 cry, 
If to-morrow we begin it : 

" Put it off," says By-and-By. 

Those who heed his treacherous wooing 

Will his faithless guidance rue ; 
What we always put off doing, 

Clearly we shall never do. 
We shall reach what we endeavor, 

If on " Now " we more rely ; 
But unto the realms of " Never " 

Leads the pilot By-and-By. 

E. L. BLANCHARD. 
3* 



30 THJB PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

THE TRUE HONOR OF A COUNTRY. 

Tell me not of the honor of belonging to a free country. 
I ask, does our liberty bear generous fruits? Does it exalt 
us in manly spirit, in public virtue, above countries trodden 
under foot by despotism ? Tell me not of the extent of our 
territory. I care not how large it is, if it multiply degen- 
erate men. Speak not of our prosperity. Better be one of 
a poor people, plain in manners, revering God and respecting 
themselves, than belong to a rich country, which knows no 
higher good than riches. 

Earnestly do I desire for this country that, instead of 
copying Europe with an undiscerning servility, it may have a 
character of its own, corresponding to the freedom and 
equality of our institutions. One Europe is enough. One 
Paris is enough. How much to be desired is it, that, sepa- 
rated as we are from the eastern continent by an ocean, we 
should be still more widely separated by simplicity of man- 
ners, by domestic purity, by inward piety, by reverence for 
human nature, by moral independence, by withstanding that 
subjection to fashion, and that debilitating sensuality, which 
characterize the most civilized portions of the Old World ! 

CHANNING. 



LITTLE THINGS. 

Little drops of water, little grains of sand, 
Make the mighty ocean and the beauteous land : 
And the little moments, humble though they be. 
Make the mighty ages of eternity. 
So our little errors lead the soul away 
From the paths of virtue, oft in sin4io stray. 
Little deeds of kindness, little words of love. 
Make our earth an Eden, like the heaven above. 



I 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 81 




THE WOUNDED EAGLE. 

Eagle ! this is not thy sphere ! 
Warrior-bird, what seek'st thou here ? 
Wherefore by this fountain's brink 
Doth thy royal pinion sink ? 
Wherefore on the violet's bed 
Lay'st thou thus thy drooping head ? 
Thou that hold'st the blast in scorn, 
Thou that wear'st the wings of morn ! 

Eagle ! wilt thou not arise ? 
Look upon thine own bright skies ! 
Lift thy glance ! — the fiery sun 
There his pride of place hath won, 
And the mountain lark is there ; 
And sweet sound hath filled the air. 
Hast thou left that realm on high ? — 
I it can be but to die I 

Eagle, eagle ! thou hast bowed 
From thine empire o'er the cloud ! 
Thou that hadst ethereal birth : 
Thou hast stooped too near the earth. 
And the hunter's shaft hath found thee, 
And the toils of death have bound thee ! 
Wherefore didst thou leave thy place, 
Creature of a kingly race ? 



32 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

Wert thou weary on thy throne ? 

Was the sky's dominion lone ? 

Chill and lone it well might be, 

Yet that mighty wing was free, 

Now the chain is o'er it cast, 

From thy heart the blood flows fast. 

Woe for gifted souls and high ! 

Is not such their destiny ? ^^^^^ ^^^^^^^^ 

The fh in ^V^^re has the sound of/. Wherefore is pronounced 
hwar'fbr, 

THE PLEASANT HOLIDAY. 

Come, my children, come away, 

For the sun shines bright to-day ; 

Little children, come with me. 

Birds, and brooks, and wild-flowers see ; 

Get your hats and come away, 

For it is a pleasant day. 

See the lambs ! they sport and play 
On the meadows fresh and gay ; 
See the kittens, full of fun, 
How they frolic — how they run ! 
Children, too, may run and play, 
For it is a pleasant day. 

Bring the hoop, and bring the ball ; 

Come with happy faces all ; 

Let us make a merry ring. 

Talk, and laugh, and skip, and sing ! 

Quickly, quickly come away, 

For it is a pleasant day ! 



THE PRIMART STANDARD SPEAKER. St 

WAR INEVITABLE. 

Sir, we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just 
Crod who presides over the destinies of nations, and who will 
raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is 
not to the strong alone ; it is to the vigilant, the active, the 
brave. 

Besides, sir, we have no election. If we were base enough 
to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. 
There is no retreat, but in submission and slavery! Our 
chains are forged ! Their clanking may be heard on the 
plains of Boston ! The war is inevitable ; and let it come ! 
I repeat it, sir, let it come ! 

It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen 
may cry. Peace, peace ; but there is no peace. The war is 
actually begun ! The next gale that sweeps from the north 
will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms ! 

Our brethren are already in the field ! Why stand we 
here idle ? What is it that gentlemen wish ? What would 
they have ? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be pur- 
chased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it. 
Heaven ! I know not what course others may take ; but, as 
for me, give me liberty, or give me death ! 

PATRICK HENRY. 



THE SENSES. 



Say, what is it, Eyes, ye see ? — 
" Shade and sunshine, flower and tree ; 
Running waters swift and clear, 
And the harvests of the year. 
These we see, and for the sight 
Bless the Giver infinite." 



34 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

Tell me, Ears, what have ye heard ? - 
" Many and many a singing bird ; 
Winds within the tree-tops blowing ; 
Rapid rivers strongly flowing ; 
Awful thunder ; ocean strong ; 
And the kindly human tongue. 
These and more an entrance find 
To the chambers of the mind." 

Tell me, busy Hands, I pray, 
What ye 're doing through the day ? ■ 
" Ever working, never still, 
We are servants to the will." — 
Busy Hands, whate'er ye do. 
Still keep peace and love in view. 



WASHINaTON TO THE AMERICAN SOLDIERS, 

BEFORE THE BATTLE OF LONG ISLAND. 

Soldiers, the eyes of all our countrymen are now upon us ; 
and we shall have their blessings and praises, if happily we 
are the instruments of saving them from the tyranny medi- 
tated against them. Let us, therefore, animate and encourage 
each other, and show the whole world that a freeman contend- 
ing for liberty on his own ground is superior to any slavish 
mercenary on earth. 

Liberty, property, life, and honor, are all at stake. Upon 
your courage and conduct rest the hopes of our bleeding and 
insulted country. Our wives, children, and parents, expect 
safety from us only ; and they have every reason to believe 
that Heaven will crown with success so just a cause. The 
enemy will endeavor to intimidate by show and appearance ; 
but remember they have been repulsed on various occasions 



THE PBIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER, 85 

by a few brave Americans. Their cause is bad ; their men 
are conscious of it ; and, if opposed with firmness and cool- 
ness on their first onset, with our advantage of works, and 
knowledge of the ground, the victory is most assuredly ours. 
Every good soldier will be silent and attentive, wait for orders, 
and reserve his fire until he is sure of doing execution. 



THE PAPER KITE. — A Fable. 
Once on a time, a paper kite 
Was mounted to a wondrous height, 
Where, giddy with its elevation, 
It thus expressed self-admiration : 
" See how yon crowds of gazing people 
Admire my flight above the steeple : 
How would they wonder if they knew 
All that a kite like me can do ! 
Were I but free, I 'd take a flight. 
And pierce the clouds beyond their sight ; 
But, ah ! like a poor prisoner bound. 
My string confines me near the ground : 
I 'd brave the eagle's towering wing, 
Might I but fly without my string.'' 
It tugged and pulled, while thus it spoke, 
To break the string ; at last it broke : 
Deprived at once of all its stay, 
In vain it tried to soar away ; 
Unable its own weight to bear, 
It fluttered downward through the air ; 
Unable its own course to guide, 
The winds soon plunged it in the tide : 
Ah, foolish kite ! thou hadst no wing ; 
How couldst thou fly without a string ? 

NEWTON. 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 





AMERICA UNCONQUERABLE, 

My LORDS, you can not, I venture to say you can not, con- 
quer America. Your armies in the last war effected every 
thing that could be effected, and what was it? My lords, 
you can not conquer America. What is your present situ- 
ation there ? We do not know the worst ; but we know that 
in three campaigns we have done nothing, and suffered much. 

As to conquest, therefore, my lords, I repeat, it is impossi- 
ble. You may swell every expense and every effort still 
more extravagantly ; pile and accumulate every assistance 
you can buy or borrow ; traffic and barter with every little 
pitiful German prince, that sells and sends his subjects to the 
shambles of a foreign country : — your efforts are for ever 
im'potent and vain ; doubly so from this niercenary aid on 
which you rely ; for it irritates, to an incurable resentment, 
the minds of your enemies, to overrun them with the sordid 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 87 

sons of rapine and of plunder, — devoting them and their 
possessions to the rapacity of hireling cruelty. 

If I were an American, as I am an Englishman, while a 
foreign troop was landed in my country, I never would lay 
down my arms, — never ! never ! never ! 

EARL OF CHATHAM. 

In the Diagram at the head of this piece the figure on the left hand 
represents the attitude to be assumed at the passage " If I were an 
American," &c. ; the figure on the right hand represents the attitude 
for the closing ' ' never ' ' — the arm having been brought down with 
energy. The first e in were, also in therefore, has the sound it has 
in her. 



THE LOBSTERS.— A Fable. 

As a young lobster roamed about, 

Itself and mother being out, 

Their eyes at the same moment fell 

On a boiled lobster's scarlet shell. 

" Look," said the younger ; "is it true 

That we might wear so bright a hue ? 

No coral, if I trust my eye. 

Can with its startling brilliance vie ; 

While you and I must be content 

A dingy aspect to present." 

" Proud, heedless fool ! " the parent cried ; 

" Know'st thou the penalty of pride ? 

The tawdry finery you wish 

Has ruined this unhappy fish. 

The hue so much by you desired 

By his destruction was acquired ! — 

So be contented with your lot, 

Nor seek to change by going to pot." 

4 PUNCH. 



38 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

HOW TO TELL BAD NEWS. 

Mr, H. Ha ! Steward, how are you, my old boy ? How 
do things go on at home ? 

Steward, Bad enough, your honor ; the magpie 's dead. 

3Ir. H. Poor Mag ! so he 's gone. How came he to die ? 

Stew. Over-ate himself, sir. 

Mr. H. Did he, indeed ? a greedy villain ! Why, what 
did he get he liked so well ? 

Stew. Horse-flesh, sir ; he died of eating horse-flesh ? 

Mr. H. How came he to get so much horse-flesh ? 

Stew. All your father's horses, sir. 

Mr. H. What ! are they dead, too ? 

SteWo Ay, sir ; they died of over-work. 

Mr. H. And why were they over-worked, pray ? 

Stew, To carry water, sir. 

31r. H. To carry water ! and what were they carrying 
water for ? 

Stew. Sure, sir, to put out the fire. 

Mr. H, Fire ! what fire ? 

Stew. 0, sir, your father's house is burned down to the 
ground. 

Mr. H, My father's house burned down ! and how came 
it set on fire ? 

Stew. I think, sir, it must have been the torches. 

Mr. H. Torches ! what torches ? 

Stew. At your mother's funeral. 

Mr. H. Alas ! my mother dead ? 

Stew. Ah, poor lady, she never looked up after it ! 

Mr, H, After what? 

Stew. The loss of your father. 

Mr, H, My father gone, too ? 

Stew, Yes, poor gentleman, he took to his bed as soon as 
he heard of it ! 



* TIIE PniMAKY STANDARD SPEAKEB. 39 

Mr. H, Heard of wkat? 

Stew, The bad news, sir, and please your honor. 

M7\ H. What ! more miseries ? more bad news ? No ! 
jou can add nothing more ! 

Stew. Yes, sir ; jour bank has failed, and your credit is 
lost, and jou are not worth a shilling in the world. I made 
bold, sir, to come to wait on you about it, for I thought you 
would like to hear the news. 



I-HAVE AXD 0-HAD-I. 

There are two little birds, quite well known in the land,- 

Their names are I-Have and 0-Had-I ; 
I-Haye will come tamely and perch on your hand, 

But O-Hbd-I will mock you most sadly. 

I-Have, at first sight, is less fair to the eye. 

But his \7orth is by far more enduring 
Than a thousand 0-Had-I's, that sit far and high 

On roofs and on branches alluriog. 

Eggs of gold this I-Have by the dozen will lay, 
Sweetly singing, " Content thee, content thee ! " 

O ! merriy then will the day glide away, 
And at night pleasant slumbers be sent thee. 

But let in 0-Had-I once ravish your eye, 
And X longing to catch him once seize you, 

He '11 give you no comfort nor rest till you die — 
Life-long he '11 torment you and tease you. 

He '11 keep you all day running up and down hill, 

Now racing, now panting and creeping, 
Whi^e far overland this sweet bird at his will 

Tv^ith his golden-tipped plumage is sweeping. 



40 THK PRIMART STANDARD SPEAKER. 

Then every wise man who attends to my song 
Will count his I-Have a choice treasure, 

And whene'er ^ an 0-Had-I comes flying along, 
Will just let him fly at his pleasure. 

FROM THE GERMAN. 



KEPLY TO THE DUKE OF GRAFTON. 

I AM amazed at the attack which fhe noble duke has made 
on me. Yes, my lords, I am amazed at his Grace's speech. 
The noble duke can not look before him, behind him, or on 
either side of him, without seeing some noble peer who owes 
his seat in this house to his successful exertions in the profes- 
sion to which I belong. Does he not feel that it is as honor- 
able to owe it to these^ as to being the accident of an acci- 
dent? To all these noble lords the language of the noble 
duke is as applicable .and as insulting as it is to myself. Eut 
I do not fear to meet it single and alone. 

No one venerates the peerage more than I do ; but, my 
lords, I must say that the peerage solicited me, — not I the 
peerage. Nay, more, — I can say, and will say, that, as a 
peer of Parliament, as speaker of this right honorable house, 
as keeper of the great seal, as guardian of Ks majesty's 
conscience, as lord high chancellor of England, — nay, even 
in that ' character alone in which the noble duke "vwuld think 
it an affront to be considered, but which character none can 
deny me — as a man, — I am at this moment as respectable 
— I beg leave to add, I am as much respected — as the 
proudest peer I now look down upon. thurlow. 

♦ E^er and ne^evy oontraotiona of ever and neveTj ar© pronounced ar and 
ttrtr, rhyming T^ith hare. 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 



41 




*«AS THY DAYS, SO SHALL THY STRENGTH BE." 

Pilgrim, treading feebly on, 
Smitten by the torrid sun, 
Hoping for the cooling rain, 
Looking for the shade in vain, 
Travel- worn and faint at heart, 
AVeak arid weary as thou art, — 
Let thy spirit not repine, 
Shade and shelter shall be thine ; 
Friendly hands to thee shall bring 
Water from the cooling spring, 
And the voice thou lovest best 
Call the wanderer to her rest : 
Grod hath said, to comfort thee, 
" As thy day, thy strength shall be." 

Christian ! toiling for the prize 
Kept for thee beyond the skies, 

4* 



42 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

Warring with the powers of sin, 
Woes without, and woes within ; 
Breathing now in rapture's air, 
Verging then upon despair ; 
Trembling, hoping, filled with pain, 
Then rejoicing once again, — 
Shrink not from life's bitter cup, 
God shall bear thy spirit up : 
He shall lead thee safely on 
Till the ark of rest is won — 
Till thy spirit is set free : 
"As thy day, thy strength shall be." 

V. G. ALLYN. 



THE FRACTIOUS MAN. 

Mr, Cross, How now, sir ? Why do you keep me knock- 
ing all day at the door ? 

John, I was at work, sir, in the garden. As soon as I 
heard your knock, I ran to open the door with such haste 
that I fell down. 

Mr, C, No great harm was done in that. Why did n't 
you leave the door open ? 

John, Why, sir, you scolded me yesterday because I did 
so. When it is open, you scold ; when it is shut, you scold. 
I should like to know what to do. 

Mr, C, What to do ? What to do, did you say ? 
• John, I said it. Would you have me leave the door 
open ? 

Mr, C, No. 

John. Would you have me keep it shut ? 

Mr. C. No. 

John. But, sir, it must be either open or — 

Mr. C. Don't presume to argue with me, fellow ! 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 43 

Johri. But does n't it hold to reason that a door — 
. Mr, C, Silence, I saj ! 

John. And I saj that a door must be either open or shut. 
Now, how will jou have it ? 

Mr. C. I have told you a thousand times, you provoking 

fellow — I have told you that I wished it But what do 

you mean by questioning me, sir ? Have you trimmed the 
grape-vine, as I ordered you ? 

John. I did that three days ago, sir. 

Mr. C. Have you washed the carriage ? 

John. I washed it before breakfast, sir, as usual. 

Mr. C. You idle, negligent fellow ! — you have n't watered 
the horses to-day ! 

John. Gro and see, sir, if you can make them drink any 
more. They have had their fill. 

Mr. C. Have you given them their oats ? 

John. Ask William ; he saw me do it. 

Mr. C. But you have forgot to take the brown mare to be 
shod. Ah ! I have you now ! 

John. I have the blacksmith's bill, and here it is. 

Mr. C. My letters — did you take them to the post-office ? 
Ha ? You forgot that — did you ? 

John. Not at all, sir. Tho letters were in the mail ten 
minutes after you handed them to me. 

Mr. C. How often have I told you, sir, not to scrape on 
that abominable violin of yours ! And yet, this very morning, 
you — 

John. This morning? You forget, sir. You broke the 
violin ail to pieces for me last Saturday night. 

Mr. C. I 'm glad of it ! — Come, now ; that wood which 
I told you to have sawed and put into the shed — why is it 
not done ? 

John. The wood is all sawed, split, and housed, sir ; be- 



44 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

sides doing that, I have watered all the trees in the garden, 
dug over three of the beds, and was digging another when 
you knocked. 

Mr» C ! I must get rid of this fellow. He will plague 
my life out of me. Out of my sight, sir ! 

IMITATED FROM THE FRENCH. 



RODERICK DHU AND FITZ-JAMES. 

King James of Scotland, while wandering in disguise, and under the 
assumed name of Fitz-James, encounters Roderick Dhu, an outlaw, by 
the side of his watch-lire in the Highlands. 

Roderick. Thy name and purpose, Saxon ! Stand ! 

Fitz-James, A stranger. 

Rod. What dost thou require ? 

Fitz-J. Kest, and a guide, and food, and fire. 
My life 's beset, my path is lost, 
The gale has chilled my limbs with frost. 

Rod. Art thou a friend to Roderick ? 

FitZ'J. No. 

Rod. Thou darest not call thyself a foe ? 

Fitz-J. I dare ! to him and all the band 
He brings to aid his murderous hand. 

Rod. Bold words ! But, if I mark aright, 
Thou bear'st the belt and spur of knight. 

Fitz-J. Then by these tokens may'st thou know 
Each proud oppressor's mortal foe ! 

Rod. Enough, enough ! Sit down and share 
A soldier's couch, a soldier's fare. 

SIR WALTER SCOTT. 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 



45 




ALEXANDER THE GREAT AND THE ROBBER. 

Alexander, What! Art thou the Thracian robber, of 
ivhose ex-ploits' I have heard so much ? 

Robber, I am a Thracian, and a soldier. 

Alex, A soldier ? A thief, a plunderer, an assassin ! the 
pest of the country ! I could honor thy courage, -but I must 
ietest and punish thy crimes. 

Rob, What have I done, of which you can complain ? 

Alex, Hast thou not set at defiance my authority, violated 
Ithe public peace, and passed thy life in injuring the persons 
\ and properties of thy fellow-subjects ? 

Rob, Alexander ! I am your captive ; I must hear what 
you please to say, and endure what you please to inflict. 
But my soul is unconquered ; and if I reply at all to your 
reproaches, I will reply like a free man. 



46 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

Alex, Speak freely. Far be it from me to take the advan- 
tage of my power to silence those with whom I deign to 
converse. 

Rob, I must then answer your question by another. How 
have you passed your life ? 

Alex, Like a hero. Ask Fame, and she will tell you. 
Among the brave, I have been the bravest ; among sovereigns, 
the noblest ; among conquerors, the mightiest. 

B,oh. And does not Fame speak of me, too ? Was there 
ever a bolder captain of a more valiant band ? Was there 

ever But I scorn to boast. You yourself know that I 

have not been easily subdued. 

Alex, Still, what are you but a robber - — a base, dishonest 
robber ? 

Roh, And what is a conqueror ? Have not you, too, gone 
about the earth like an evil genius, blasting the fair fruits of 
peace and industry, plundering, ravaging, killing, without 
law, without justice, merely to gratify an insatiable lust for 
dominion ? All that I have done to a single district with a 
hundred followers, you have done to whole nations with a 
hundred thousand. If I have stripped individuals, you have 
ruined kings and princes. If I have burnt a few hamlets, 
you have desolated the most flourishing kingdoms and cities 
of the earth. What is, then, the difference, but that, as you 
were born a king, and I a private man, you have been able 
to become a mightier robber than I ? 

Alex, But, if I have taken like a king, I have given like a 
king. If I have subverted empires, I have founded greater 
I have cherished arts, commerce, and philosophy. 

Rob, I, too, have freely given to the poor what I took 
from the rich. I have established order and discipline among 
the most ferocious of mankind, and have stretched out my 
protecting arm over the oppressed. I know, indeed, little of 



THE PKIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 47 

the philosophy you talk of, but I believe neither you nor I 
shall ever atone to the world for half the mischief we have 
done it. 

Alex. Leave me. {He speaks as if to persons off the stage.) 
Take oflf his chains, and use him well. — Are we, then, so 
much alike ? Alexander like a robber ! Let me reflect. 

DR. AIKIN. 



CONTENTED JOHN. 



One honest John Tomkins, a hedger and ditcher, 
Although he was poor, did not want to be richer ; 
For all such vain wishes in him were prevented, 
By a fortunate habit of being contented. 

Though cold was the weather, or dear was the food, 
John never was found in a murmuring mood ; 
For this he was constantly heard to declare — 
What he could not prevent, he would cheerfully bear. 

" For why should I grumble and murmur ? " he said ; 
*' If I can not get meat, I can surely get bread ; 
And though fretting may make my calamities deeper, 
It never can cause bread and cheese to be cheaper." 

If John was afflicted with sickness and pain. 
He wished himself better, but did not complain, 
Nor lie down to fret in despondence and sorrow, 
But said — that he hoped to be better to-morrow. 

If any one wronged him, or treated him ill. 

Why, John was good-natured and sociable still ; 

For he said — that revenging the injury done. 

Would be making two rogues, when there need be but one. 



48 THE PKIMART STANDARD SPEAKER. 

And thus honest John, though his station was humble, 
Passed through this sad world without even a grumble ; 
And I wish that some folks, who are greater and richer. 
Would copy John Tomkins, the hedger and ditcher. 



THE MIMIC. 



A MIMIC I knew, who, to give him his due. 
Was exceeded by none and was equaled by few. 

He could bark like a dog ; he could grunt like a hog ; 
Nay, I really believe he could croak like a frog. 

Then, as for a bird, — you may trust to my word, 
'T was the best imitation that ever you heard. 

It must be confessed that he copied birds best ; 

You 'd have thought he had lived all his life in a nest. 

It happened, one day, that he came in the way 

Of a sportsman — an excellent marksman, they say. 

And near a stone wall, with his little bird-call. 
The mimic attempted to imitate all. 

So well did he do it, the birds all flew to it ; 
But, ah ! he had certainly reason to rue it. 

It turned out no fun, — for, the man with the gun, 
Who was seeking for partridges, took him for one. 

He was shot in the side ; and he feelingly cried, 
A moment or so ere he fainted and died : 

" Who for others prepare a trap, should beware 
They do not themselves fall into the snare." 



THE PRIilAllY STANDARD SPEAKER. 



49 




THE LESSON OF LOVE. 

Be not liarsli and unforgiving ; 
Live in love, — 't is pleasant living ! 
If an angry man should meet thee, 
And assail thee indiscreetly, 
Turn not thou again and rend him, 
Lest thou needlessly offend him : 
Show him love hath been thy teacher — 
Kindness is a potent preacher ; 
Gentleness is e'er foroivincr ; 
Live in love, — 't is pleasant living ! 
5 



80 THI PRIMARY STANDARD S$P1IAK£&. 

Why be angry with each other ? 
Man was made to love his brother ; 
Kindness is a human duty, — 
Meekness a celestial beauty. 
Words of kindness, if in season, 
Have a weight with men of reason. 
Don't be others* follies blaming, 
And their little vices naming ; 
Charity 's a cure for railing, 
Suffers much, — is all-prevailing. 
Courage, then ! and be forgiving ; 
Live in love, — 't is pleasant living ! 

H&Bt thou known that bitter feeling 
Gendered by our hate's concealing? 
Better love, though e'er so blindly, — 
Better banish thoughts unkindly. 
Words are wind : ! let them never 
Friendship's golden love-cord sever ! 
Nor be angry, though another 
Fail to treat thee like a brother : — 
" Brother," say, " let 's be forgiving ! 
Live in love, — 't is pleasant living ! " 



THE QUARREL OF THE AUTHORS. 

1st, Sir, I 'm proud to have met you ; long have I known 
Your productions, and wished them (how often !) my own. 
Your verses have beauties in none other found. 

2d. In yours, sir, the Loves and the Graces abound. 

l5^. Your phrases are neat, your style charmingly light. 

2d. We find the pathetic in all that you write. 

l5^. How sweet your Bu-col'ics ! how tender and true ! 
The-oc'ri-tus, surely, was nothing to you. 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 51 

2d. Your odes have a noble and elegant vein, 
That even old Horace could never attain. 

IsL Can any thing equal your love-ditties rare ? 

2d. Can aught with your wonderful sonnets compare ? 

1st. If the public could estimate half of your worth, — 

2d. If merit now met its due honors on earth, — 

1st. You would roll through the streets in a carriage of gold. 

2d. Every square in the city your statue would hold. 
Hem ! this ballad of mine (unrolling a manuscript) — your opin- 
ion upon it. 
I should like to — 

1st. Pray, sir, have you met with a sonnet 
On the meeting of Congress — 

2d. A sonnet ? Just so ; 
'T was read at a party a few nights ago. 

1st. Do you know who 's the author? 

2d. I know not — nor care ; 
For 't is an exceedingly trifling affair. 

l5^. Yet many admire it — or so they tell me. 

2d. No matter for that, it 's as bad as can be ; 
And if you had but seen it, sir, you 'd think so too. 

l5^ Dear sir, I am sorry to differ from you ; 
But I hold that its merit must every one strike. 

2d. May the Muses preserve me from making the like ! 

Isi. (Angrily.) 1 maintain that a better the world cannot show : 
For I am the author — yes, 7, you must know. 

2d. You'? 

1st. I. 

2d. Well, I wonder how that came to pass. 

l5^ I had the bad luck not to please you, alas I 

2d. Perhaps there was something distracted my head ; 
Or else the man spoiled it, so badly he read. 
But here is my ballad, concerning which, I — 

1st. The days of the ballad, me thinks, are gone by ; 
'T is very old-fashioned, and out of date quite. 

2c?. Yet, even now, many in ballads delight. 

Isl. No matter ; I think them decidedly flat. 



52 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

2d. You think them ! Perhaps they 're no worse, sir, for that, 

1st. For pedants, indeed, they have charms beyond measure. 

2d. And yet we perceive that they give you no pleasure. 

1st. You give others qualities found but in you. 

2d. You call others names that are justly your due. 
Go, blotter of foolscap ! contemptible creature ! 

1st. Go, scribbler of sonnets, and butcher of meter ! 

2d. Go, impudent pla^giarist ! — pedant, get out ! 

1st. Go, rascal — be careful ! mind what you 're about. 

2d. Go, go ! strip your writings of each borrowed plume ; 
Let the Greeks and the Latins their beauties resume. 

1st. Go, you, and ask pardon of Venus and Bacchus, 
For your lame imitations of jolly old Flaccus. 

2d. Remember your book's insignificant sale. 

l5^. Remember your bookseller driven to jail. 

2d. My pen shall avenge me, — to your great disaster. 

l5^. And mine shall let you know, sir, who is your master. 

2d. I defy you in verse, prose, Latin, and Greek ! 

1st, You shall hear from me, sir, in the course of the week. 

IMITATED FROM MOLIERE. 



KINDNESS. 



A LITTLE spring had lost its way 

Amid the grass and fern ; 
A passing stranger scooped a well, 

Where weary men might turn ; 
He walled it in, and hung, with care, 

A ladle at the brink ; 
He thought not of the deed he did, 

But judged that Toil might drink. 
He passed again — and, lo ! the well, 

By summers never dried. 
Had cooled ten thousand parched tongues, 

And saved a life beside. 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 



53 




" If they fall, we fall with them." 

OUR DUTIES AS AMERICANS. 

It can not be denied, but by those who would dispute 
against the sun, that with America, and in America, a new 
era commences in human affairs. This era is distinguished 
by free representative governments, by entire religious lib- 
erty, by improved systems of national intercourse, by a newly 
awakened and an unconquerable spirit of free inquiry, and 
by a diffusion of knowledge through the community, such as 
has been before altogether unknown and unheard of. Amer- 
ica, America, our country, fellow-citizens, our own dear and 
native land, is inseparably connected, fast bound up, in for- 
tune and by fate, with these great interests. If they fall ^ we 
fall with them ; if they stand, it will be because we have 
maintained them. 
5^ 



54 THE PIIIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

Let US con-tem'plate, then, this connection, which binds the 
prosperity of others to our own ; and let us manfully dis- 
charge all the duties which it imposes. If we cherish the 
virtues and the principles of our fathers. Heaven will assist 
us to carry on the work of human liberty and human happi- 
ness. Auspicious omens cheer us. Grreat examples are before 
us. Our own firmament now shines brightly upon our path. 
Washington is in the clear upper sky. These other stars 
have now joined the American constellation ; they circle 
round their center, and the heavens beam with new light. 
Beneath this illumination let us walk the course of life, and 
at its close devoutly commend our beloved country, the com- - 
mon parent of us all, to the Divine Benignity. 

WEBSTER. 



HARRY'S TERRIBLE ADVENTURE. 

The night was dark, the sun was hid 
Beneath the mountain gray ; 

And not a single star appeared. 
To shoot a friendly ray. 

Across the heath the owlet flew, 
And screamed along the blast, 

As onward, with a quickened step, 
Benighted Harry passed. 

At intervals, amid the gloom 
A flash of lightning played. 

And showed the ruts with water filled, 
Beside the hedge's shade. 

Again in thickest darkness plunged, 
He groped his way to find ; 



THB PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 5S 

And now he thought he spied beyond 
A form of dreadful kind. 

In shadowy white it upward rose, 

Of dress or mantle bare. 
And stretched its naked arms as if 

To catch him by the hair. 

Poor Harry felt his blood run cold, 

At what before him stood : 
Yet like a man he then resolved 

To do the best he could. 

So, calling all his courage up, 

He to the figure went ; 
And through the gathering gloom of night 

His piercing eyes he bent. 

But when he came quite near the ghost 

That gave him such a fright, 
He clapped together both his hands, 

And loudly laughed outright. 

For there a guide-post good he found, 

The stranger's road to mark ; 
A pleasant sprite was this to see, 

For Harry in the dark ! 

«Well done !" said he; "one thing, at least, 

I 've learned, beyond a doubt, — 
Whatever frightens me again, 

I '11 try to find it out. 

" And when I hear an idle tald 

Of any shocking ghost, 
I '11 tell of this, my lonely walk, 

And of the tall white guide-po«t;** 



56 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

AN APPEAL TO ARMS. 

I HAVE but one lamp by which my feet are guided, and 
that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judg- 
ing of the future but by the past. And, judging by the past, 
I wish to know what there has been in the conduct . of the 
Eritish ministry, for the last ten years, to justify those hopes 
with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace themselves 
and the house. Is it that insidious smile with which our 
petition has been lately received ? Trust it not, sir ! It will 
prove a snare to your feet. Suffer not yourselves to be 
betrayed with a kiss ! 

Let us not, I beseech you, deceive ourselves longer. We 
have done every thing that could be done to avert the storm 
which is now coming on. We have petitioned — we have 
remonstrated — we have supplicated — we have prostrated 
ourselves before the throne, and have implored its interposi- 
tion to arrest the tyrannical hands of the ministry and Parlia- 
ment. Our petitions have been slighted ; our remonstrances 
have produced additional violence and insult ; our supplica- 
tions have been disregarded ; and we have been spurned, with 
contempt, from the foot of the throne. 

In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope 
of peace and reconciliation. There is no longer any room for 
hope. If we wish to be free, — if we mean to preserve invio- 
late those inestimable privileges for which we have been so 
long contending, — if we mean not basely to abandon the 
noble struggle in which we have been so long engaged, and 
which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon, until the 
glorious object of our contest shall be obtained, — we must 
fight ! — I repeat it, sir, we must fight ! An appeal to 
arms, and to the God of Hosts, is all that is left us ! 

PATRICK HENRY. 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 



57 




NERO. 

A NOBLE dog our Nero was ; 

He came from Newfoundland ; 
The children all could play with him, 

And pat him with the hand. 

A thick and shaggy wool he had, 
That guarded him from cold ; 

His feet were broad and stout, and he 
Was kind as he was bold. 

If any quarrel-seeking cur 
E-ushed at him for a fight, 

And Nero did but look at him. 
The cur would run, in fright. 

One day our little sister Ruth 

Fell over from a boat ; 
But Nero was on board, and he 

Was speedily afloat. 



58 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

He swam to where her sinking form, 

Swept by a wave, was seen ; 
He seized the collar of her dress 

His good strong teeth between. 

He bore her up — he brought her through 

The salt waves to our side ; 
We took her in — " The darling 's safe ! 

Brave dog ! " my father cried. 

No wonder that we love to play 

With such a dog as Nero ; 
Better a medal he deserves, 

Than many a fighting hero. osborne. 

In the word JVewfoundland put the accent on the last syllable. 
Give the oa in boat and coat the full sound of long o, as in go. Do 
not pronounce medal as if it were meddle : the a has a slightly- 
obscured sound of short a. Sound the h in humblCy exhibit^ &c. 
Sound the ir in first and the wr in burst like er in her. 



UNRIGHTEOUS MEASURES AGAINST AMERICA. 

My lords, who is the man that, in addition to the dis- 
graces and mischiefs of our armies, has dared to associate 
with our arms the tomahawk and scalping-knife of the sav- 
age ? — to call into civilized alliance the wild and inhuman 
savage of the woods ; to delegate to the merciless Indian the 
defense of disputed rights ; and to wage the horrors of his 
barbarous war against our brethren ? These enormities cry 
aloud for redress and punishment ; and, unless thoroughly 
done away, they will be an indelible stain on the national 
character. 

It is not the least of our misfortunes that the strength and 



THE PKIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 59 

character of our army are thus impaired. Familiarized to 
horrid scenes of savage cruelty, it can no longer boast the 
generous principles which dignify a soldier ; no longer feel 
" the pride, pomp, circumstance of glorious war, that make 
ambition virtue." What makes ambition virtue ? The sense 
of honor ! But is the sense of honor consistent with a spirit 
of plunder, or the practice of murder ? 

My lords, you can not conciliate America by your present 
measures; you can not subdue her by your present, or by 
any measures. In a just and necessary war, to maintain the 
rights or honor of my country, I would strip the shirt from 
my back to support it. But in such a war as this, unjust in 
its principle, impracticable in its means, and ruinous in its 
consequences, I would not contribute a single effort, nor a 
single shilling. earl oe Chatham. 



BRUCE TO HIS TROOPS. 

Scots ! who have with Wallace bled, 
Scots ! whom Bruce has often led, 
Welcome to your gory bed, 
Or to victory. 

Now 's the day, and now 's the hour , 
See the front of battle lower ! 
See approach proud Edward's power — 
Chains and slavery ! 

Who will be a traitor knave ? 
Who can fill a coward's grave ? 
Who so base as be a slave ? 

Let him turn and flee ! 



60 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

Who for Scotland's king and law 
Freedom's sword will strongly draw, 
Freeman stand, or freeman fall, 
Let him follow me ! 

By oppression's woes and pains. 
By your sons in servile chains. 
We will drain our dearest veins, 
But they shall be free ! 

Lay the proud usurpers low ! 
Tyrants fall in every foe ! 
Liberty 's in every blow ! — 

Let us do or die ! burns. 



WATER, BRIGHT WATER FOR ME ! 

! WATER for me ! bright water for me. 

And wine for the tremulous debauchee ! 

It cooleth the brow, it cooleth the brain, 

It maketh the faint one strono; ao-ain : 

It comes o'er the sense like a breeze from the sea, 

All freshness, like infant purity ; 

! water, bright water, for me, for me ! 

Grive wine, give wine to the debauchee ! 

Fill to the brim ! Fill, fill to the brim ! 

For water strengtheneth life and limb ; 

To the days of the aged it addeth length ; 

To the might of the strong it addeth strength ; 

It freshens the heart, it brightens the sight, 

'T is quaffing a goblet of morning light. 

So, water, I will drink naught but thee. 

Thou parent of health and energy ! e. johnson. 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 61 

OLD GRIMES. 

Old Grrimes is dead ! that good old man 

We never shall see more ; 
He used to wear a long black coat, 

All buttoned down before. 

His heart was open as the day, 

His feelings all were true ; 
His hair was some inclined to gray — 

He wore it in a queue. 

Whene'er he heard the voice of pain, 

His breast with pity burned ; 
The large round head upon his cane 

From ivory was turned. 

Kind words he ever had for all ; 

He knew no base design ; 
His eyes were dark and rather small, 

His nose was aquiline. 

He lived at peace with all mankind ; 

In friendship he was true ; 
His coat had pocket-holes behind ; 

His pantaloons were blue. 

Unharmed, the sin which earth pollutes 

He passed securely o'er ; 
And never wore a pair of boots 

For thirty years or more. 

But good old Grimes is now at rest. 

Nor fears Misfortune's frown ; 
He wore a double-breasted vest — 

The stripes ran up and down. 
6 



62 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

He modest merit sought to find, 

And pay it its desert ; 
He had no malice in his mind, 

No ruffles on his shirt. 

His neighbors he did not abuse — 

Was sociable and gay ; 
He wore large buckles on his shoes, 

And changed them every day. 

His knowledge, hid from public gaze. 

He did not bring to view ; 
Nor make a noise, town-meeting days, 

As many people do. 

His worldly goods he never threw 
In trust to fortune's chances ; 

But lived (as all his brothers do) 
In easy circumstances. 

Thus undisturbed by anxious cares 

His peaceful moments ran ; 
And everybody said he was 

A fine old gentleman. 

ALBERT G. GREENE. 



SPEECH OF MIN-NE-VAH, AN INDIAN CHIEF. 

White men, we give way before you, like the driving mist 
before the gale. The next new moon shall not find one of 
our tribe on these forsaken hunting-grounds. You have con- 
quered. We confess that we are the weaker party. We can 
not stay here, if we would. 

But do not think, my white brethren, that it is your cour- 
age which has brought us low. Your swords are sharp, and 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 63 

your rifles are true ; but they did not do the work of our 
degradation and subjection. You brought a surer, a deadlier 
weapon for our destruction. You brought the whiskey-bottle, 
my white brethren. That has done for us what steel and 
powder could not do. It has wasted us as April suns waste 
the snow on the hill-tops. It has taken the wisdom out of 
the brains of our old men, and the manhood out of the limbs 
of our young warriors. It has made us bad hunters, bad 
husbands, bad fathers, bad Indians, bad men. When we are 
settled in our distant hunting-grounds, grant us one favor, at 
least — keep your accursed fire-water from our lips. We 
may yet be men and warriors, without that. But, with it, — 
war, famine, and disease, shall soon finish the work of exter- 
mination which ye have begun. 



WARREN TO HIS MEN AT BUNKER HILL. 
Stand ! the ground 's your own, my braves ! 
Will ye give it up to slaves ? 
Will ye look for greener graves ? 

Hope ye mercy still ? 
What 's the mercy despots feel ? — 
Hear it in that battle-peal ! 
Head it on yon bristling steel ! 
Ask it — ye who will. 

Fear ye foes who kill for hire ? 
Will ye to your homes retire ? 
Look behind you ! they 're on fire ! ^ 

And, before you, see 
Who have done it ! — From the vale 
On they come ! — and will ye quail ? — 

* The British set fire to Charlestown, which is within sight of Bunker 
Hill, just before the battle. 



64 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

Leaden rain and iron hail 
Let their welcome be ! 

In the God of battles trust ! 

Die we may — and die we must : — 

But, ! where can dust to dust 

Be consigned so well, 
As where heaven its dews shall shed 
On the martyred patriot's bed, 
And the rocks shall rear their head, 

Of his deeds to tell ! pierpoxt. 



LIFE WITHOUT FREEDOM. 

From life without freedom, say, who would not fly ? 
For one day of freedom, ! who would not die ? 
Hark ! — hark ! 't is the trumpet ! the call of the brave, 
The death-song of tyrants, the dirge of the slave. 
Our country lies bleeding — haste, haste to her aid ; 
One arm that defends is worth hosts that invade. 

In death's kindly bosom our last hope remains — 

The dead fear no tyrants, the grave has no chains. 

On, on to the combat ! the heroes that bleed 

For virtue and country are heroes indeed. 

And, ! even if Freedom from this world be driven. 

Despair not — at least we shall find her in heaven ! 

MOORE. 



AGAINST CIVIL DISCORD. 
I HAVE been charged with ambition. Yes, I have ambi- 
tion ; but it is the ambition of being the humble instrument 
in the hands of Providence to reconcile a distracted people ; 
once more to revive concord and harmony in a distracted 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 65 

land, — the pleasing ambition of contem'plating the glorious 
spectacle of a free, united, prosperous, and fraternal people ! 

If there be any who want civil war, — who want to see 
the blood of any portion of our countrymen spilt, — I am 
not one of them. I wish to see war of no kind ; but, above 
all, do I not desire to see a civil war. 

When war begins, whether civil or foreign, no human fore- 
sight is competent to foresee when, or how, or where, it is to 
terminate. But when a civil war shall be lighted up in the 
bosom of our own happy land, and armies are marching, and 
commanders are winning their victories, and fleets are in 
motion on our coast, — tell me, if you can — tell me, if any 
human being can tell, its duration ! clay. 



THE JUVENILE OEATOR. 
You 'd scarce expect one of my age 
To speak in public, on the stage ; 
And if I chance to fall below 
De-mos'the-nes or Cicero, 
Don't view me with a critic's eye, 
But pass my imperfections by. 
Large streams from little fountains flow ; 
Tall oaks from little acorns grow : 
And though I now am small and young. 
Of judgment weak, and feeble tongue, 
Yet all great learned men, — like me 
Once learned to read their A, B, C. 
And why may not Columbia's soil 
Bear men as great as Britain's isle ; 
Exceed what Greece and Rome have done, 
Or any land beneath the sun ? 
May n't Massachusetts prove as great 
As any other sister state ? 

6* 



06 THE PRIMAUY STANDAKD SPEAKER. 

Or, where 's the town, go far and near, 

That does not find a rival here ? 

Or, where 's the boy but three feet high 

Who 's made improvements more than I ? 

These thoughts inspire my youthfd mind 

To be the greatest of mankind ; 

Great, not like Caesar, stained with blood ; 

But only great, as I am good. 

DAVID EVERETT. 

Do not pronounce soil to rhyme with isle ; but give the oi its true 
sound, as in coin. 



LIBERTY AND UNION. 

When my eyes shall be turned to behold for the last time 
the sun in heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken 
and dishonored fragments of a once glorious Union ; on states 
dissevered, discordant, belligerent ; on a land rent with civil 
feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal blood I Let their 
last feeble and lingering glance rather behold the gorgeous 
ensign of the republic, now known and honored throughout 
the earth, still full high advanced, its arms and trophies 
streaming in their original luster, not a stripe erased or pol- 
luted, not a single star obscured, bearing for its motto no such 
miserable interrog'atory as, " What is all this worth ? " nor 
those other words of delusion and folly, " Liberty first, and 
imion afterward ; " but everywhere spread all over in charac- 
ters of light, blazing on all its ample folds, as they float over 
the sea and over the land, and in every wind under the whole 
heavens, that other sentiment, dear to every true American 
heart, — • Liberty and union, now and for ever, one and insep- 
arable ! WEBSTER. 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 



67 




PARAPHRASE OF THE NINETEENTH PSALM. 

The spacious firmament on high, 
With all the blue ethereal sky, 
And spangled heavens, a shining frame, 
Their great Original proclaim : 
The unwearied sun, from day to day, 
Does his Creator's power display, 
And publishes to every land 
The work of an Almighty Hand. 



Soon as the evening shades prevail, 
The moon takes up the wondrous tale, 
And nightly, to the listening earth, 
Repeats the story of her birth ; 



'68 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

Whilst all the stars that round her burn, 
And all the planets, in their turn, 
Confirm the tidings as they roll, 
And spread the truth from pole to pole. 

What though, in solemn silence, all 
Move round this dark terrestrial ball ! 
What though no real voice, nor sound, 
Amid their radiant orbs be found ! 
In Reason's ear they all rejoice, 
And utter forth a glorious voice, 
For ever singing, as they shine, 
" The Hand that made us is Divine." 

ADDISON. 



THE FARMER AND THE LANDLORD. 

A FARMER, of an honest fame, 

One morning to his landlord came : 

" Alas, my lord," he weeping said, 

" Gored by my bull, your ox is dead. 

What must be done ? " — " The case is plain," 

Replies the lord ; " the creature slain, 

The owner of the bull must pay ; 

Let it be done without delay." — 

" Heaven give your worship long to live ! 

I hope you will a good ox give, 

For mine was good ! " — " How ! yours^ my friend? 

Let me your story comprehend : , ; 

Your bull, you say, my ox has gored ? " — 

" Forgive me the mistake, my lord, 

In my confusion I have made ; 

Mine was the ox, I should have said ; 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. ^ 

But 't is all one ; what 's just for me, 

Must justice for your worship be : 

I '11 tell the steward what you say." — 

" Not yet ! We '11 think of 't ; go your way ; 

Further inquiry must be had ; 

Perhaps your fences were but bad ; 

Perhaps — But come again to-morrow." 

The honest laborer saw, with sorrow. 

That justice wears a different face. 

When for themselves men put the case. 

BOOTHBY. 



LOGAN, AN INDIAN CHIEF, TO LORD DUNMORE. 

I APPEAL to any white man to say, if ever he entered Lo- 
gan's cabin hungry, and he gave him not meat ; if ever he 
came cold and naked, and he clothed him not. During the 
course of the last long and bloody war, Logan remained idle 
in his cabin, an advocate for peace. Such was my love for 
the whites, that my countrymen pointed at me as they passed, 
and said, " Logan is the friend of white men.'' I had even 
thought to have lived with you, but for the injuries of one 
man. Colonel Cresap, the last spring, in cold blood, and un- 
provoked, murdered all the relations of Logan, not sparing 
even my women and children. There runs not a drop of my 
blood in the veins of any living creature. This called on me 
for revenge. I have sought it. I have killed many. I 
have glutted my vengeance. For my country, I rejoice at 
the beams of peace. But do not think that mine is the joy 
of fear. Logan never felt fear. Logan will not turn on his 
heel to save his life. Who is there to mourn for Logan ? 
Not one ! 



70 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 




THE SNOW-HUT. 

The welcome snow ! the feathery snow ! 
How fast to the ground the little flakes go ! 
They have covered the top of the hill with white/ 
They have hidden the garden-hedge from sight, 
They have powdered the trees, and woven a woof 
Of ermine for every shed and roof; 
They have spread a sheet in the valley's lap, 
And put on the post at the gate a cap. 

In his kennel yonder old Nero lay 
While the drifts swept over and far away ; 
And when he woke up he found it was dark. 
Odd enough ! thought he, beginning to bark ; 
Then we, with our shovels of every shape, 
Helped the old fellow out of his scrape. 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 71 

Well powdered, he scrambled out, at length, 
And shook his old jacket with all his strength. 

Take your spade, brother, and I will show 
How the Esquimaux live in their hovels of snow ; 
We '11 dig us a hole where we both can creep, 
And sheltered from cold lie down to sleep. 
We '11 have us a window made of ice, 
And make our floor all level and nice : 
And I will show you how Kane and his men 
Lay snug on the snow in their Arctic den. 

Pronounce Esquimaux as if it were Es'ke-mo. The o in hovel hs^ 
its short sound, as in novel ; but in shovel ^ o has the sound of short u, 
as in but 



i 



YOUTHFUL PIETY. 

By cool Si-lo'am's shady rill, 

How sweet the lily grows ! 
How sweet the breath beneath the hill 

Of Sharon's dewy rose ! 

Lo ! such the child whose early feet 
The paths of peace have trod ; 

Whose secret heart with influence sweet 
Is upward drawn to God. 

By cool Si-lo'am's shady rill. 

The lily must decay ; 
The rose that blooms beneath the hill 

Must shortly fade away : 

And soon, too soon, the wintry hour 

Of man's maturer age 
Will shake the soul with Sorrow's pow6T, 

And stormy Passion's rage. 



72 THE PRIM All Y STANDARD SPEAKER. 

O ! Thou, whose infant feet were found 

Within thy Father's shrine, 
Whose years, with changeless virtue crowned, 

Were all alike divine, — 

Dependent on thy bounteous breath, 

We seek thy grace alone. 
In childhood, manhood, age, and death, 

To keep us still thine own. heber. 



THE DEPAKTING SWALLOWS. 

Ye gentle birds, that perch aloof, 

And smooth your pinions on my roof. 

Preparing for departure hence. 

Now Winter's angry threats commence, — 

Like you, my soul would smooth her plume 

For longer flights beyond the tomb. 

May God, by whom is seen and heard 
Departing man and wandering bird. 
In mercy mark us for his own, 
And guide us to the land unknown ! 

WILLIAM HAYLET. 



TRUE COMELINESS. 



What is the blooming tincture of the skin, 

To peace of mind and harmony within ? 

What the bright sparkling of the finest eye 

To the soft soothing of a calm reply ? 

Can comeliness of form, or shape, or air, 

With comeliness of words or deeds compare ? 

No ! those at first the unwary heart may gain. 

But these, these only, can the heart retain. gay. 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 73 



THE DYING CHIEF. 

The stars looked down on the battle-plain, 
Where night-winds were deeply sighing, 

And with shattered blade, near his war-steed slain, 
Lay a youthful chieftain dying. 

Proudly he lay on his broken shield. 

By the rushing Guadalquivir, 
While, dark with the blood of his last red field, 

Swept on the majestic river. 

There were hands which came to bind his wound, 
There were eyes o'er the warrior weeping ; 

But he raised his head from the dewy ground, 
Where the land's high hearts were sleeping ! 

And " Away ! " he cried, " your aid is vain, 

My soul may not brook recalling ; 
I have seen the stately flower of Spain 

As the autumn vine-leaves falling ! 

• 7 



74 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

" I have seen the Moorish banners wave 

O'er the halls where my youth was cherished ; 

I have drawn a sword that could not save, 
I have stood where my king hath perished ! 

" Leave me to die with the free and brave, 
On the banks of my own bright river ! 

Ye can give me naught but a warrior's grave 
By the chainless Guadalquivir ! " 



THE PILOT. 



"0, Pilot ! *t is a fearful night, 

There 's danger on the deep ; 
I '11 come and pace the deck with thee, — 

I do not care to sleep." 
" Gro down," the sailor cried, " go down ; 

This is no place for thee ; 
Fear not ! but trust in Providence, 

Wherever thou may est be." 

" Ah, Pilot, dangers often met 

We all are apt to slight. 
And thou hast known these raging waves 

But to subdue their might." 
" It is not apathy," he cried, 

" That gives this strength to me ; 
Fear not ! but trust in Providence, 

Wherever thou mayest be. 

" On such a night the sea engulfed 

My father's lifeless form ; 
My only brother's boat went down, 

In just so wild a storm ; 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 75 > 

And such, perhaps, may be my fate — 

But still I say to thee, 
Fear not ! but trust in Providence, 

Wherever thou may est be." 

T. II. BAYLY. 



THE AMERICAN UNION. 

Thou, too, sail on, Ship of State ! 
Sail on, Union, strong and great ! 
Humanity, with all its fears, 
With all its hopes of future years, 
Is hanging breathless on thy fate ! 
We know what master laid thy keel, 
What workmen wrought thy ribs of steel, 
Who made each mast, and sail, and rope, 
What anvils rang, what hammers beat, 
In what a forge and what a heat 
Were shaped the anchors of thy hope ! 

Fear not eagh sudden sound and shock, — - 
'T is of the wave, and not the rock ; 
'T is but the flapping of the sail. 
And not a rent made by the gale ! 

In spite of rock and tempest's roar. 

In spite of false lights on the shore. 

Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea ! 

Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee : 

Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears, 

Our faith triumphant o'er our fears. 

Are all with thee — are all with thee ! 

LONGFELLOW. 



76 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

THE BIRD TO THE SPORTSMAN. 

WouLDST thou have me fall, or fly ? 
Hear me sing, or see me die ? 
If thy heart is cold and dull, 
Knowing nothing beautiful, — 
If thy proud eye never glows 
With the light love only knows, — 
If the loss of friends or home 
Ne'er hath made life wearisome, — 
If thy cheek has never known 
Tears that fall with sorrow's moan, — 
If a hopeless mother's sigh 
Brings no tear-drop from thine eye, 
Thou may'st smile to see me die. 

But, if thou canst love the lay 

Welcoming the birth of May, — 

Or summer's song, or autumn's dirge, 

Cheering winter's dreary verge, — 

If thou lovest Beauty's hues, 

Decked with light or gemmed with dews,- 

If, all meaner thoughts above. 

Thou canst hope, and trust, and love, — 

If, from all dishonor free. 

Thou canst Nature's lover be, — 

Spare her minstrels — pity me ! 



PLEASURES THAT DO NOT FAIL. 

There are pleasures that time will not take away. While 
animal spirits fail, and joys which depend upon the liveliness 
of the passions decline with years, the solid comforts of a 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 7T 

holy life, the delights of virtue and a good conscience, will be 
a new source of happiness in old age, and have a charm for 
the end of life. 

As the stream flows pleasantest when it approaches the 
ocean ; as the flowers send up their sweetest odors at the close 
of day ; as the sun appears with greatest beauty in his going 
down ; so, at the end of his career, the virtues and graces of 
a good man's life come before him with the most delightful 
remembrance, and impart a joy which he never felt before. 
Over all the moments of life religion scatters her favors, but 
reserves her best, her choicest, her divinest blessings, for the 
last hour. logan. 



NOT TO MYSELF ALONE. 

" Not to myself alone," 
The little opening flower, transported, cries, — 
" Not to myself alone I bud and bloom ; 
With fragrant breath the breezes I perfume, 
And gladden all things with my rainbow dyes ; 
The bee comes sipping, every eventide, 

His dainty fill ; 
The butterfly within my cup doth hide 
From threatening ill." 

" Not to myself alone," 
The circling star with honest pride doth boast, — 
" Not to myself alone I rise and set ; 
I write upon night's coronal of jet 
His power and skill who formed our myriad host ; 
A friendly beacon at Heaven's open gate, 

I gem the sky. 
That man may ne'er forget, in every fate, 

His home on high." 

7# 



78 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

" Not to myself alone," 
The heavy-laden bee doth murmuring hum, — 
" Not to myself alone from flower to flower 
I rove the wood, the garden, and the bower, 
And to the hive at evening weary come ; 

For man, for man the luscious food I pile 

With busy care. 
Content if he repay my ceaseless toil 
With scanty share." 

" Not to myself alone," 
The soaring bird with lusty pinion sings, — 
" Not to myself alone I raise my song ; 
I cheer the drooping with my warbling tongue, 
And bear the mourner on my viewless wings ; 
I bid the hymnless churl my anthem learn, 

And God adore; 
I call the worldling from his dross to turn, 
And sing and soar." 

*' Not to myself alone," 
The streamlet whispers on its pebbly way, — 
" Not to myself alone I sparkling glide ; 
I scatter health and life on every side, 
And strew the fields with herb and flow 'ret gay ; 
I sing unto the common, bleak and bare. 

My gladsome tune ; 
I sweeten and refresh the languid air 
In droughty June." 

'' Not to thyself alone ! " — 
! man, forget not thou, — earth's honored priest. 
Its tongue, its soul, its life, its pulse, its heart — 
In earth's great chorus to sustain thy part. 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 79 

Chiefest of guests at Love's ungrudging feast, 

Play not the niggard ; spurn thy native clod, 

And self disown ; 
Live to thy neighbor, — live unto thy God, — 

Not to thyself alone ! 



BRUTUS ON THE DEATH OF C^SAR. 

Romans, countrymen, and lovers ! Hear me for my cause ; 
and be silent that you may hear. Believe me for mine honor ; 
and have respect to mine honor, that you may believe. Cen- 
sure me in your wisdom, and awake your senses that you may 
the better judge. If there be any in this assembly, — any 
dear friend of Csesar's, — to him I say, that Brutus' love 
to Caesar was not less than his. If, then, that friend demand 
why Brutus rose against Caesar, this is my answer : Not that 
I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Home more. Had you 
rather Caesar were living, and die all slaves, than that Ca3sar 
'were dead, to live all freemen? As Caesar loved me, I weep 
for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was 
valiant, I honor him ; but as he was ambitious, I slew him ! 
There are tears for his love ; joy for his fortune ; honor for 
his valor ; and death for his ambition ! shakspeare. 



THE WAY TO BE HAPPY. 

A HERMIT there was, who lived in a grot. 

And the way to be happy they said he had got. 

As I wanted to learn it, I went to his cell ; 

And this answer he gave, when I asked him to tell : 

" 'T is being, and doing, and having, that make 

All the pleasures and pains of which mortals partake : 

To he what God pleases, to do a man's best. 

And to have a crood heart, is the way to be blest." 



80 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 




PERILS OF THE SEA. 

The brave ship lay at anchor in the harbor. Her yards 
were unbraced, and her sails hung loosely against the mast, 
for the day was calm and lovely. Her port-holes were un- 
closed, and her guns showed their dark mouths in a fearful row. 
That was the last time I saw the good ship Terrible. She 
sailed the next day for China, and was never heard of more. 

What was the fate of that noble vessel and her gal'lant 
crew ? Alas ! we can only guess. Overtaken by some 
dreadful storm, did she founder and sink ? Or, was she borne 
against some iceberg that toppled and fell upon her deck, 
carrying ruin and dismay ? Or, did she take fire, and burn 
to the water's edge ? It is conjecture all ! 

Many are the perils of the poor sailor. Do we ever think 
how much we owe him ? Live comfortably we can not, — 
live at all, perhaps, we can not, — without seamen will ex- 
pose themselves for us, risk themselves for us, and, alas ! 
often, very often, drown — drown in our service — drown and 
leave widows and orphans destitute. 

To beg with me, to plead with me, for these destitute ones, 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 81 

there comes from many a place where seamen have died a 
call, a prayer, a beseeching voice ; — a cry from the coast of 
Guinea, where there is fever evermore ; a cry from Arctic 
seas, where icebergs are death ; a cry from coral reefs, that 
ships are wrecked on horribly ; a cry from mid ocean, where 
many a sailor drops into a sudden grave ! They ask your 
help, your charity for the widows and orphans of those who 
have gone down to the sea - — have gone down to the sea in 
ships. 

THE MISER AND THE MOUSE. 

A MISER, traversing his house. 

Espied, unusual there, a mouse, 

And thus his uninvited guest. 

Briskly inquisitive, addressed : 

*^ Tell me, my dear, to what cause is it 

I owe this unexpected visit ? " 

The mouse her host obliquely eyed, 

And, smiling, pleasantly replied, 

" Fear not, good fellow, for your hoard ! 

I come to lodge ^ and not to board ! " 

TRANSLATED FROM THE GREEK BY COWPER. 



LOVE OF COUNTRY. 
Breathes there the man with soul so dead, 
Who never to himself hath said, 
This is my own ^ — my native land ? 
Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, 
As home his footsteps he hath turned 
From wandering on a foreign strand ? 
If such there breathe, go, mark him well : 
For him no minstrel raptures swell. 



82 * THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

High though his titles, proud his name, 
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim — 
Despite those titles, power, and pelf. 
The wretch, concentered all in self. 
Living, shall forfeit fair renown, 
And, doubly dying, shall go down 
To the vile dust from whence he sprung, 
Unwept, unhonored, and unsung ! 

SIR W^ALTER SCOTT. 



THE CALL OF SAMUEL. 

1 Sam. 3 : 1—10. 

In Israel's fane, by silent night, 
The lamp of God was burning bright ; 
And there, by viewless angels kept, 
Samuel, the child, securely slept. 

A voice unknown the stillness broke : 
*' Samuel ! " it called, and thrice it spoke. 
He rose ; he asked whence came the word ; — 
From Eli ? — No ; it was the Lord. 

Thus early called to serve his God, 
In paths of righteousness he trod ; 
Prophetic visions fired his breast. 
And all the chosen tribes were blessed. 

Speak, Lord ! and, from our earliest days, 
Incline our hearts to love thy ways. 
Thy wakening voice hath reached our ear ; 
Speak, Lord, to us ; thy servants hear. 

CAWOOD. 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 83 

CESAR'S PASSAGE OF THE RUBICON. 

A GENTLEMAN, Mr. President, speaking of Caesar's benevo- 
lent disposition, and of the reluctance with which he entered 
into the civil war, observes, " How long did he pause upon the 
brink of the Kubicon ! " • — How came he to the brink of that 
river ? How dared he cross it ? Shall private men respect 
the boundaries of private property, and shall a man pay no 
respect to the boundaries of his country's rights ? How dared 
he cross that river ? — ! but he paused upon the brink. 
He should have perished on the brink, ere * he had crossed it ! 

Why did he pause ? — Why does a man's heart palpitate 
when he is on the point of committing an unlawful deed? 
Why does the very murderer, his victim sleeping before him, 
and his glaring eye taking the measure of the blow, strike 
wide of the mortal part ? — Because of conscience ! 'T was 
that made Caesar pause upon the brink of the Rubicon ! — 
Compassion ! What compassion ? — The compassion of an 
assassin, that feels a momentary shudder, as his weapon begins 
to cut ! 

Caesar paused upon the brink of the Rubicon ! What was 
the Rubicon ? — The boundary of Caesar's province. From 
what did it separate his province ? — From his country. Was 
that country a desert ? — No ; it was cultivated and fertile, 
rich and populous ! Its sons were men of genius, spirit, and 
generosity ! Its daughters were lovely, susceptible, and 
chaste ! Friendship was its inhabitant ! Love was its inhab- 
itant ! Domestic affection was its inhabitant ! Liberty was 
its inhabitant ! All bounded by the stream of the Rubicon ! 

What was Caesar, that stood upon the brink of that stream ? 
— A traitor, bringing war and pestilence into the heart of that 
country ! No wonder that he paused : — no wonder if, his 
imagination wrought upon by his conscience, he had beheld 

* Pronounce ere, meaning before, like air. 



84 THE nilMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

blood instead of water, and heard groans instead of mur- 
murs ! No wonder if some gorgon horror had turned him 
into stone upon the spot ! But, no ! he cried, " The die is 
cast ! " He plunged ! he crossed ! and Eome was free no 
more ! j. s. knowles. 



CASABIANCA. 



Young Casabianca, a boy about thirteen years old, son to the Admiral 
of the Orient, remained at his post in the battle of the Nile, after the ship 
had taken fire, and all the guns had been abandoned, and perished in the 
explosion of the vessel, when the flames had reached the powder. 

The boy stood on the burning deck, 

Whence all but he had fled ; 
The flame that lit the battle's wreck 

Shone round him o'er the dead. 

Yet beautiful and bright he stood, 

As born to rule the storm, — 
A creature of heroic blood, 

A proud, though childlike form. 

The flames rolled on — he would not go, 

Without his father's word ; 
That father, faint in death below, 

His voice no longer heard. 

He called aloud : — " Say, father, say, 

If yet my task is done ! " 
He knew not that the chieftain lay 

Unconscious of his son. 

" Speak, father ! " once again he cried, 

*' If I may yet be gone ! 
And " But the booming shots replied, 

And fast the flames rolled on. 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 85 

Upon his brow he felt their breath, 

And in his waving hair ; 
And looked from that lone post of death, 

In still, yet brave despair : — 

And shouted but once more aloud, 

'' My father ! must I stay ? '^ 
While o'er him fast, through sail and shroud, 

The wreathing fires made way. 

They wrapt the ship in splendor wild. 

They caught the flag on high. 
And streamed above the gallant child. 

Like banners in the sky. 

There came a burst of thunder sound — 

The boy — I where was he ? * 
Ask of the winds that far around 

With fragments strewed the sea, — 

With mast, and helm, and pennon fair. 
That well had borne their part ! — 

But the noblest thing which perished there 
Was that young, faithful heart ! 

MRS. HEMANS. 



A ROMAN OFFICER TO HIS SOLDIERS. 

Soldiers ! We are surrounded on all sides by the enemy, 
and we must do one of two things, — surrender or die, perish 
or survive in slavery. You, I know, will not hesitate about 
the choice ; but it is not enough to perish — we must perish 
nobly. The coward may resign himself to be consumed by 
famine ; he may linger in misery, and wait, in a dispirited 
condition, for the friendly hand of death. 



86 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

But we, who have been schooled and educated in the field 
of battle, — we, who are Romans, — we are not now to learn 
the proper use of our arms ; we know how to carve for our- 
selves an honorable death. Yes, let us die, but not inglorious 
and unrevenged : let us die covered with the blood of our 
enemies, that our fall, instead of raising the smile of malicious 
exultation, may give them cause to mourn over the victory 
that undoes us. Can we wish to loiter a while longer in life, 
when we know that a very few years more must bring us to 
our graves ? The limits of human life can not be enlarged 
by nature ; but glory can extend them, and give a second life. 
Be our resolve, then, this : to perish rather than surrender — 
to die as men rather than to live as slaves. marmontel. 



THE SEASONS. 



1st Voice. When Spring comes with suns and showers, 
What gives beauty to the bowers ? 

2d Voice. Buds and flowers. 

1st V. When the glowing Summer 's born. 
What pours Nature from her horn ? 

2nd V. Hay and corn. 

1st V. When mild suns in Autumn shine. 
Then, Earth, what gifts are thine ? 

2nd V, Fruit and wine. 

1st V. When gray Winter comes, what glow 
Makes the round earth sparkle so ? 

2nd V. Ice and snow. 

1st V. Hay and corn, and buds and flowers, 
• Snow and ice, and fruit and wine ; 
Spring and Summer, Fall and Winter, 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 87 

With their suns, and sleets, and showers. 
Bring in turn these gifts divine. 

2nd F. Spring blows. Summer glows, 
Autumn reaps, Winter keeps. 
Spring prepares, Summer provides, 
Autumn hoards, Winter hides. 

Both. Come, then, friends, their praises sound ; 
Spring and Summer, Autumn, Winter, 
Summer, Autumn, Winter, Spring, 
As they run their yearly round. 
Each in turn with gladness sing ! 
Time drops blessings as he flies, 
Time makes ripe, and Time makes wise. 

FROM THE GERMAN. 



THE FIK-TREE AND THE THORN.— A Fable. 

The lowly and contented state 

Is farthest from the wounds of fate. 

A Fir, upon a humble Thorn, 

From his high top looked down with scorn. 

'' For loftiest fanes we grow," he said; 

'^ Of us the tallest masts are made; 

While thou, poor Bramble, canst produce 

Nothing of ornament or use." 

" Great tree," the m^odest Thorn replied, 

" When the sharp ax shall pierce your side, 

In vain you then may wish to be 

Unsouo:ht-for and unknown like me." 



tS THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 




THE LIFE OF A BIRD. 

How pleasant the life of a bird must be, 

Skimming about on the breezy sea, 

Cresting the billows like silver}?- foam, 

And then wheeling away to its cliff-built home ! 

What joy it must be to sail, upborne 

By a strong free wing, through the rosy morn, 

To meet the young sun face to face. 

And pierce like a shaft the boundless space ! 

How pleasant the life of a bird must be ! 
Wherever it listeth, there to flee ; 
To go, when a joyful fancy calls, 
Dashing adown 'mong the waterfalls. 
Then wheeling about with its mates at play, 
Above and below, and among the spray, 
Hither and thither, with screams as wild 
As the laughing mirth of a rosy child ! 

What joy it must be, like a living breeze. 
To flutter about 'mong the flowering trees ; 
Lightly to soar, and to see beneath 
The wastes of the blossoming purple heath, 



THE PRIMARY iSTANDARD SPEAKER. 89 

And the yellow furze, like fields of gold, 
That gladden some fairy regions old ! — 
On mountain tops, on the billowy sea, 
On the leafy stems of the forest tree, 
How pleasant the life of a bird must be ! 

MARY HOWITT. 



THE FOOT-BALL ORATORS. 
I. 

Gentlemen of our side ! Undaunted Blues ! The mo- 
ment is at hand when you must either exult as victors, or be 
laid low in the dust as vanquished. The great annual foot- 
ball battle between the honorable Blues and the detested 
Greens is now to come off. What can I say to add to the 
generous ardor that fires your minds ? If we allow our- 
selves to be beaten, — beaten by the Greens, the pusillanimous 
Greens, — where and how shall we hide our diminished heads ? 
For us no minstrel raptures will swell. For us no laurel 
wreath will be woven. We shall go down to the base dust 
from which we sprung — unwept, unhonored, and unsung. 

But, if we prevail, — and when I look on your glowing 
faces and flashing eyes, I feel that we shall prevail ; I know 
that there is no such word as fail ; — if we prevail, did I say? 
no ! when we prevail — what glory will be ours ! W"e shall 
draw a freer breath ; we shall tread with a prouder step ; 
we shall feel that we, too, are associated with the Alexanders 
and the Csesars, with the Fredericks and the Napoleons, of 
history. 

Does any dastard pretend to say that fame is but an empty 
name ? or that, if there is any glory, it will attach to me, 
your leader, and not to the common soldier ? Base and un- 
8* 



90 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

worthy insinuation ! Here I resign it all freely to you in 
advance. Let me lead you to victory, and the spoils and the 
glory may be his who can get them. 

^ Intrepid sons of your country ! Bravest of brave men ! 
True Blues ! Throw off your jackets ! Tighten your belts ! 
Don't waste your kicks, but wait till you are sure the ball is 
before you. Now stand at ease, and wait for the word of 
command. 

II. 

Champion oi t\iz §xtm^. 

Comrades ! Companions in arms ! Illustrious Greens ! Our 
strength lies more in deeds than words. If we can not brag 
as well as the gentlemen of the other side, we may, perhaps, 
show them that we can kick as well, when the time comes. 
If we do not win this match, it will not be for want of supe- 
rior wind, tougher shins, and stronger sinews. Our training, 
too, has been better. We have kept more in the open air — 
eaten less and exercised more. We are better organized. 
There stands the larger mob ; here stands the stronger 
army. 

Let us meet them like true Americans, and charge home ! 
Do not shrink from the thickest of the scuffle when the ball 
is to be rescued. Press where ye see my green ribbon flutter 
amid the ranks of war ! Let no man fear for his shins. 
Let the enemy find, to their sorrow, whose shins are the more 
tender. Let the abhorred Blues — the tongue-valiant, forci- 
ble-feeble Blues — be sent limping from the field home to 
their anxious mothers, who probably do not know that they 
are out. 

But I will not waste time in words. The hour strikes. 
The ball is in the air. Now every man to his post ! Now, 
guards ! up and at them ! Charge ! spencer. 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 91 

A CHARACTER. 

Who traced these lines, upon the world was thrown. 

Alike '' to fortune and to fame unknown ; " 

So very poor, his only store was health ; 

So very rich, he envied no man's wealth ; 

So very proud, he owed a debt to none ; 

So very bold, he never feared a dun ; 

So very brave, he kissed no tyrant's rod ; 

So very cowardly, he feared his God ; 

So idle, that he loved to muse and dream ; 

So selfish, that he loved his self-esteem ; 

So tame, he swore not when dispute grew loudest ; 

So fierce, he brooked no insult from the proudest ; 

So hot, a slanderer well-nigh drove him mad ; 

So cold, he formed no friendships with the bad ; 

So timid, that he dared not be a slave ; 

So stubborn, that he would not be a knave ; 

So ignorant of life, he hoped and feared 

As fortune's varying sky o'ercast or cleared ; 

So ignorant of law, he knew no better 

Than to prefer the spirit to the letter ; 

So poor a drudge, he earned his daily bread ; 

So odd, he thanked the Giver as he fed ; 

So loyal, he abused nor church nor state ; 

So rancorous, a villain moved his hate ; 

So insolent, a fool provoked his scorn ; 

So foolish, that he pitied the forlorn ; 

So old, at last, he grieved that youth had wings 

So young, even then he loved all lovely things ; 

So childish, that his heart could burn and bleed ; 

And *' whom it loved, loved tenderly indeed ! " 

J. G. GRANT. 



92 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

PRECEPTa 

First worship God : he that forgets to praj 
Bids not himself good-morrow nor good-day ; 
Let thy first labor be, to purge thy sin, 
And serve Him first whence all things did begin. 

Honor thy parents to prolong thine end : 
With them, though for a truth, do not contend ; 
Whoever makes his father's heart to bleed 
May have a child that will avenge the deed. 

Think that is just : 't is not enough to do, 
Unless thy very thoughts are upright too. 
Defend the truth ; for that who will not die, 
A coward is, and gives himself the lie. 

Take well whate'er shall chance ; though bad it be, 
Take it for good, and 't will be good to thee. 
First think ; and, if thy thoughts approve thy will. 
Then speak ; and after that thy speech fulfill. 

THOMAS RANDOLPH. 



RIENZI TO THE ROMANS. 

I, THAT speak to you, — 
I had a brother once, — a gracious boy. 
Full of all gentleness, of calmest hope, 
Of sweet and quiet joy ; there was the look 
Of heaven upon his face, which limners give 
To the beloved disciple. How I loved 
That gracious boy ! Younger by fifteen years, 
l^rother at once and son ! He left my side, 
A summer bloom on his fair cheeks, a smile 
Parting his innocent lips. In one short hour. 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 93 

The pretty, harmless boy was slain ! I saw 

The corse, the mangled corse, and then I cried 

For vengeance ! Rouse, ye Romans ! rouse, ye slaves ! 

Have ye brave sons? — Look, in the next fierce brawl, 

To see them die ! Have ye daughters fair? — Look 

To see them live, torn from your arms, distained, 

Dishonored ! and, if ye dare call for justice, 

Be answered by the lash ! Yet this is Rome, 

That sat on her seven hills, and, from her throne 

Of beauty, ruled the world ! Yet we are Romans ! 

Why, in that elder day, to be a Roman 

Was greater than a king I — And once again, — 

Hear me, ye walls, that echoed to the tread 

Of either Brutus ! -— once again I swear, 

The eternal city shall be free ! her sons 

Shall walk with princes I miss mitford. 



THE APPEAL OF THE CHILDREN. 

Give us light amid our darkness ; 

Let us know the good from ill ; 
Hate us not for all our blindness ; 
Love us, lead us, show us kindness — 

You can make us what you will. 

We are willing, we are ready ; 

We would learn, if you would teach : 
We have hearts that yearn towards duty ; 
We have minds alive to beauty ; 

Souls that any heights can reach ! 

Raise us by your Christian knowledge : 
Consecrate to man our powers ; 



94 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

Let US take our proper station ; 
We, the rising generation, 

Let us stamp the age as ours ! 

We shall be what you will make us : — 
Make us wise, and make us good ! 

Make us strong for time of trial ; 

Teach us temperance, self-denial, 
Patience, kindness, fortitude! 

Look into our childish faces ; 

See je not our willing hearts? 
Only love us — only lead us ; 
Only let us know you need us, 

And we all will do our parts. 

^ MARY HOWITT. 



THE SOLDIER'S DREAM. 

Our bugles sang truce — for the night-cloud had lowered, 
And the sentinel stars set their watch in the sky ; 

And thousands had sunk on the ground overpowered. 
The weary to sleep, and the wounded to die. 

When reposing that night on my pallet of straw, 
By the wolf-scaring fagot that guarded the slain, 

At the dead of the night a sweet vision I saw. 
And thrice ere the mornino- I dreamed it ae;ain. 

Methought from the battle-field's dreadful array 
Far, far I had roamed on a desolate track ; 

'T was autumn — and sunshine arose on the way 
To the home of my fathers, that welcomed me back. 

I flew to the pleasant fields, traversed so oft 

In life's morning march, when my bosom was young ; 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 95 

I heard my own mountain-goats bleating aloft, 

And knew the sweet strain that the corn-reapers sung. 

Then pledged we the wine-cup, and fondly I swore 

From my home and my weeping friends never to part ; 

My little ones kissed me a thousand times o'er. 

And my wife sobbed aloud in her fullness of heart. 

*' Stay, stay with us — rest, thou art weary and worn ; " 
And fain was their war-broken soldier to stay ; 

But sorrow returned with the dawning of morn. 
And the voice in my dreaming ear melted away. 

CAMPBELL. 



GOOD ADVICE. 
Ye who would save your features florid, 
Lithe limbs, bright eyes, unwrinkled forehead, 
From Age's devastation horrid, 

Adopt this plan : 
'T will make, in climate cold or torrid, 

A hale old man. 

Avoid in youth luxurious diet ; 
Restrain the passions' lawless riot ; 
Devoted to domestic quiet, 

Be wisely gay ; 
So shall ye, spite of Age's fiat, 

Resist decay. 

Seek not in Mammon's worship pleasure, 

But find a far superior treasure 

In books, friends, music, polished leisure : 

The mind, not sense. 
Make the sole scale by which ye measure 

Your opulence. 



96 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

This is the solace, this the science, — 
With trust in God, life's best appliance, — 
That disappoints not man's reliance, 

Whate'er his state ; 
But challenges, with calm defiance. 

Time, fortune, fate. Horace smith. 



THE REFORMED LAP-DOG. 

A RICH old lady's pampered dog 
Lay on his cushion like a log. — 
Sick with indulgences and ease, 
And cross, and difficult to please. 
So fat and lazy was he grown. 
Scarce could he waddle up and down. 

Minions who cease to be protected 
May soon expect to be neglected. 
Old madam died ; and then poor Tray 
Was cuffed and kicked, and sent away 
A laborer in the neighborhood, 
To whom the lady had been good, 
Received him in his little shed ; 
Where, hardly lodged, and scantly fed, 
Air, exercise, and temperate board, 
Tray's health and spirits soon restored. 
Contented in a cottage more 
Than with his luxuries before, 
His playful tricks and ready glee 
Delighted all the family. 

0, parents ! heed the lap-dog's fate, 
And check, before it is too late, 



THE PllIMAIlY STANDARD SPEAKER. 97 

The hand that to the young would give 
The means luxuriously to live. 
Ease, indolence, and dainty fare, 
Their health and vigor must impair. 
The tempting food, the pampered state. 
Must soon a thousand ills create. 
To make us what we ought to be, 
No school is like adversity. 



THE TRUE LIFE. 



If we would judge of the rate at which we are living, we 
are to look not at the growth or the decay of the frame, the 
tightening or slackening of the sinews, but at the emotions 
that play most freely through our hearts, and the actions we 
achieve. Count not your birth-days, but the number of hearts 
you have blessed, and the holy impulses you have set in 
motion, if you would know how old you are ! 

^^ Life 's more than breath and the quick round of blood ; 
'T is a great spirit and a busy heart. 
AYe live in deeds, not years ; in thoughts, not breaths ; 
In feelings, not in figures on a dial." 

The memorial of goodness is everlasting. Whoever bears 
a working hand and a large love through the world, shall 
make eternal room for himself in its memory. Whoever 
speaks fruitful words, so laden with truth that they plant 
themselves in the hearts of other men with an immovable 
lodgment, and strike root there, shall realize the fulfillment 
of the inarticulate prophecy within him, and shall not wholly 
die, even out of this scene of his present habitation. 

HUNTINGTON. 
9 



98 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 




COQUETRY AND SINCERITY. 

What 's a coquet ? Since none are by 
To hear mj frank and plain reply, 
I'll tell you, that she is by nature 
A forward, trifling, heartless creature ; 
A common glass, all forms reflecting. 
Preferring none, and none rejecting ; 
A gambler who invites your stakes 
While in false coin her own she makes ; 
Who aims at common admiration 
By practicing dissimulation ; 
Who, loving her sweet self alone. 
Would win all hearts, and keep her own. 

How differently does Chloe charm J 
No treachery hers, no false alarm ! 
With native unaffected grace, 
The light of truth is on her face : 
Her teeth of pearl, and lips of rose, 
Only a smile sincere compose. 
For honest love and friendship made, 
She scorns the trifler's paltry trade. 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. • 99 

The few she loves intent to please, 
None other can disturb her ease ; 
On no new victories she dreams, 
But is the lovely thing she seems. 



SUPPOSED SPEECH OF JOHiST ADAMS. 

Sink or swim, live or die, survive or perish, I give my 
hand and my heart to this vote. It is true, indeed, that in 
the beginning we aimed not at independence. But there 's a 
divinity which shapes our ends. The injustice of England 
has driven us to arms ; and, blinded to her own interest for 
our good, she has obstinately persisted, till independence is 
now within our grasp. We have but to reach forth to it, 
and it is ours. Sir, the war must go on. We must fight it 
through. And if the war must go on, why put off longer the 
declaration of independence ? That measure will strengthen 
us. It will give us character abroad. 

If we fail, it can be no worse for us. But we shall not 
fail. The cause will raise up armies ; the cause will create 
navies. The people, the people, if we are true to them, will 
carry us, and will carry themselves, gloriously, through this 
struggle. I care not how fickle other people have been found. 
I know the people of these colonies, and I know that resist- 
ance to British aggression is deep and settled in their hearts, 
and can not be eradicated. 

Bead this declaration at the head of the army ; — every 
sword will be drawn from its scabbard, and the solemn vow 
uttered to maintain it, or to perish on the bed of honor. 
Publish it from the pulpit; — religion will approve it. Send 
it to the public halls — and the very walls will cry out in its 
support. 

Sir, I know the uncertainty of human affairs ; but I see 



100 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

clearly through this clay's business. You and I, indeed, may 
rue it. We may die, — die colonists ; die slaves ; die, it 
may be, ignominiously on the scaffold. But, whatever may 
be our fate, be assured that this Declaration will stand. We 
shall make this a glorious, an immortal day. Our children 
will honor it. They will celebrate it with thanksgiving, with 
festivity, with bonfires, and illuminations. 

Sir, my judgment approves this measure, and my whole 
heart is in it. All that I have, and all that I am, and all 
that I hope, in this life, I am now ready here to stake upon 
it ; and I leave off, as I began, that, live or die, survive or 
perish, I am for the Declaration ! It is my living sentiment, 
and, by the blessing of God, it shall be my dying sentiment, — 
Independence now, and Independence for ever ! Webster. 



RISE EARLY. 



Insidious Sloth her object gains 
If but a hearing she obtains. 

A youth accustomed to sleep late, 

And make the breakfast-table wait. 

Was asked, " Why lie so long in bed ? '' - 

" I listen to a cause," he said ; 

" As soon as I unclose my eyes 

My better angel bids me rise : 

' Up ! up ! ' she says, * to meet the sun ; 

Your task of yesterday 's undone ; 

A thousand fresh delights you miss 

In dozing at an hour like this ; 

You leno-then out the hours of slumber 

o 

Beyond what health and nature number : 
Arise, if you a man would be ! 
From these enfeebling toils be free ! ' 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 101 

* Lie still,' cries SlotK ; * it is not warm ; 
An hour's more sleep can do no harm ; 
You will have time your work to do, 
And leisure for amusement too.' " — 
Much must be heard on either side, 
The question fairly to decide ; 
And e'er the long debate is o'er, 
Time and occasion are no more ! 
Would you the joy of victory know, 
Pause not to parley with the foe : 
Play not the sluggard and the dunce, — 
Awake ! arise ! start up at once ! 



THE BOASTINa TRAVELER. 
A FELLOW who abroad had been 
Told marvels he had done and seen. 
" When resident at Rhodes," he said, 
" A leap of twenty yards I made 
Over a barrier ten feet high ; 
A dozen witnesses were by." 
His hearers at each other wink, 
Or by a shrug tell what they think. 
" Come on," says one, who near him stood ; 
" Yon empty ditch and fence of wood 
Are, neither, half so high or wide ; 
Here let the experiment be tried : 
Suppose yourself at Rhodes, and we 
Your faithful witnesses will be." 
The man replied : " Hem ! I to-day 
Am not quite well," — then stole away. 

Avoid the boasting vein, if you 

Would not be scorned and laughed at too. 

9* 



102 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

THE CHAMELEON. 

Because I may not think like you, 
Don't call me foolish or untrue. 
So limited is mortal ken, 
So blinded are the wisest men, — 
. Things are so various to the sight, — 
Even ymi at times may miss the right ; 
And even your opinion prove 
An error time must soon remove. 

The question, not long since, arose, 

What the chameleon's color was. 

A man who had one lately seen 

Maintained the creature's hue was green : 

Another vehemently said. 

Its skin was of a lively red : 

To end the contest, they apply 

To a third traveler, passing by. 

" Sirs, you are neither of you right," 

He cries, — " the animal is white. 

To prove it to you, I will show 

You one I caught an hour ago." — 

The creature from a bag he drew, 

When, lo ! to their dismay, 't was blue ! 



A HYMN OF LIBERTY. 

GrOD has been bountiful ! Garlands of beauty 
Grow all around, making gladness a duty ; 
Shedding their bloom on the pale cheek of slavery, 
Holding out plumes for the helmets of bravery ; 
Voices proclaiming, from field and from wave, 
" God has been bountiful — man must be brave ! " 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 103 

Look on this harvest of plenty and promise — 
Shall we sleep while the enemy snatches it from us ? 
Would ye live happily ? Fear not nor falter ; — 
Peace crowns the summit of Liberty's altar. 
Would ye win Glory ? She knows not the slave ; 
God has been bountiful — you must be brave ! 

Come, vow by the bright streams abundantly flowing, 
And by the cold hearth-stones where wet weeds are growing, 
By the stars, and the earth, and the four winds of heaven, 
That the land shall be saved, and its tyrants outdriven ! 
Do it ! and blessings will shelter your grave : 
G-od has been bountiful — will ye be brave ? 

DUBLIN NATION. 



THE HIDDEN TREASURE. 

Work, work, my boys, with hand and mind \ 
Your labors you will fruitful find. 

A husbandman, about to die, 
Called on his children to come nigh : 
" I leave," he said, " a small estate, 
But wherewithal to make it great : 
For, know a treasure it contains. 
If you to search will take the pains." — 
He died. The sons dug all the ground, 
But there no hidden treasure found : 
Yet so productive was the soil. 
The crop soon overpaid their toil. 
Says one, when they their corn had sold, 
"This was the hoard our sire foretold." 



104 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 




THE SKATER'S SONG. 

Away, away, o'er the glistening ice, 

Away, away, we go ; 
On our steel-bound feet we move as fleet 

As deer o'er the Lapland snow. 
What though the sharp north winds are out? 

The skater heeds them not ; 
'Mid the laugh and shout of the joyous rout, 

Grim Winter is forgot. 

Let others choose more gentle sports, 

By the side of the parlor fire ; 
Or 'neath the lamps of the festal hall 

A close, warm air respire : 
But as for me — away ! away ! 

Where the skaters glide and wheel ; 
Where the pure, fresh gale 't is a joy to inhale, 

And a luxury to feel ! 

For there we know we are hand in hand 
With that jovial comrade. Health ; 

Who bringeth a cheer that we find not near 
In revelry, fame, or wealth. 



THE PPwIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 105 

Then let us go when the north winds blow 

To the pond by the old bare wood ; 
And a glow that fire can not bestow 

Shall stir and kindle the blood. 



THE MAN OF INTEGRITY. 

It will not take much time to delineate the character of the 
man of integrity, as by its nature it is a plain one, and easily 
understood. He is one who makes it his constant rule to 
follow the road of duty, according as the word of God and 
the voice of his conscience point it out to him. He is not 
guided merely by affections, which may sometimes give the 
color of virtue to a loose and unstable character. 

The upright man is guided by a fixed principle of mind, 
which determines him to esteem nothing but what is honor- 
able, and to abhor wTiatever is base or unworthy, in moral 
conduct. Hence we find him ever the same ; at all times 
the trusty friend, the affectionate relation, the conscientious 
man of business, the pious worshiper, the public-spirited 
citizen. 

He assumes no borrowed appearance. He seeks no mask 
to cover him, for he acts no studied part ; but he is indeed 
what he appears to be, full of truth, candor, and humanity. 
In all his pursuits, he knows no path but the fair and direct 
one ; and would much rather fail of success, than attain it by 
reproachful means. 

He never shows us a smiling countenance, while he medi- 
tates evil against us in his heart- He never praises us among 
our friends, and then joins in traducing us among our enemies. 
We shall never find one part of his character at variance with 
another. In his manners, he is simple and unaffected ; in all 
his proceedings, open and consistent. blaik. 



106 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

THE WORDS OF HOPE. 

I SAY to tliee, do thou repeat 

To the first man thou mayest meet, 

In lane, highway, or open street, — 

That he, and we, and all men, move 

Under a canopy of love, 

As broad as the blue sky above : 

That doubt and trouble, fear and pain. 
And anguish, all are shadows vain ; 
That death itself shall not remain : 

That weary deserts we may tread, 
A dreary labyrinth we may thread. 
Through dark ways under ground be led ; 

Yet, if we will our Gruide obey, 
The dreariest path, the darkest way, 
Shall issue out in heavenly day ; — 

And we, on divers shores now cast, 
Shall meet, our perilous voyage past, 
All in our Father's house, at last ! 

And ere thou leave him, say thou this 
Yet one word more : they onl}^ miss 
The winning of that final bliss, 

Who will not count it true that Love, 
Blessing, not cursing, rules above, 
And that in it we live and move : — 

And one thing further make him know : 
That to believe these things are so, 
This firm faith never to forego, — 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 107 

Despite of all which seems at strife 
With blessing, all with curses rife, — 
That this is blessing, this is life. 

THE DEAN OF WESTMINSTER. 



HECTOE AND ANDROMACHE.* 

And. Too daring prince ! — Ah ! whither dast thou run ? 
Ah ! too forgetful of thy wife and son ! 
And think 'st thou not how wretched wc ^hall be ? 
A widow I, a helpless orphan he ! 
For sure such courage lenoih of life denies : 

o o ^ 

And thou must fall, thy virtue's sacrifice. 

Hec, Andromache ! my soul's far better part, 
"Why with untimely sorrow heaves thy heart ? 
No hostile hand can antedate my doom, 
Till fate condemn me to the silent tomb. 

Aiid. Greece in her single heroes strove in vain ; 
Now hosts oppose thee, and thou must be slain. 
No parent now remains my griefs to share, 
No father's aid, no mother's tender care ; 
Yet, while my Hector still survives, 1 see 
My father, mother, brethren, all in thee ! 
Alas ! my parents, brethren, kindred, all 
Once more will perish, if my Hector fall ! 

Rec. My early youth was bred to warlike pains ; 
My soul impels me to the martial plains. 
Still foremost let me stand to guard the throne, 
To save my father's honors and my own. 

And. That quarter most the skillful Greeks annoy 
Where yon wild fig-trees join the wall of Troy : 

* Pronounced An-drom.'a-ke. 



108 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

Thou from this tower defend the important post ; 
There Agamem'non points his dreadful host : 
Thrice our bold foes the fierce attack have given, 
Or led by hopes, or dictated from Heaven. 
Let others in the field their arms employ ; 
But stay my Hector here, and guard his Troy. 

Hec. How would the sons of Troy, in arms renowned. 
And Troy's proud dames, whose garments sweep the ground 
Attaint the luster of my former name, 
Should Hector basely quit the field of fame I 
No more — but hasten to thy tasks at home ; 
There guide the swindle, and direct the loom. 

HOMER, TRANSLATED BY POPE. 



THE BUTTERFLY'S BALL. 
Come, take up your hats, and away let us haste 
To the Butterfly's ball and the Grasshopper's feast ; 
The trumpeter Gradfly has summoned the crew, 
And the revels are now only waiting for you. 

On the smooth-shaven grass by the side of the wood, 
Beneath a broad oak that for ages has stood, 
See the children of earth and the tenants of air 
For an evening's amusement together repair. 

And there came the Beetle, so blind and so black, 
Who carried the Emmet, his friend, on his back ; 
And there was the Gnat, and the Dragonfly too, 
"With all their relations, green, orange, and blue. 

And there came the Moth in his plumage of down. 
And Hornet with jacket of yellow and brown, 
Who with him the Wasp, his companion, did bring; 
But they promised that evening to lay by their sting. 



THE miMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 109 

And the slj little Dormouse crept out of his hole, 
And led to the feast his blind brother, the Mole ; 
And the Snail, with his horns peeping out from his shell, 
Came from a great distance, — the length of an ell. 

A mushroom their table, and on it was laid 
A water-dock leaf, which a table-cloth made ; 
The viands were various, to suit each one's taste. 
And the Bee brought his honej to crown the repast. 

There, close on his haunches, so solemn and wise, 
The Frog from a corner looked up to the skies ; 
And the Squirrel, well pleased such diversion to see, 
Sat cracking his nuts overhead in a tree. 

Then out came the Spider, with fingers so fine. 
To show his dexterity on the tight line ; 
From one branch to another his cobwebs he slung, 
Then as quick as an arrow he darted along. 

But just in the middle, — ! shocking to tell ! — 
From his rope in an instant poor Harlequin fell ; 
Yet he touched not the ground, but with talons outspread 
Hung suspended in air at the end of a thread. 

Then a Grasshopper came with a jerk and a spring, — 
Very long was his leg, though but short was his wing : 
He took but three leaps and was soon out of sight, 
Then chirped his own praises the rest of the night. 

With step so majestic the Snail did advance, 
And promised the gazers a minuet to dance ; 
But they all laughed so loud that he pulled in his head, 
And went to his own little chamber to bed. 
10 



110 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

Then, as evening gave way to the shadows of night, 
Their watchman, the Glowworm, came out with his light ; 
Then home let us hasten while yet we can see. 
For no watchman is waiting for you or for me. 

ROSCOE. 



SPARTACUS TO HIS FELLOW-GLADIATORS. 

Fellow-glad' lATORS ! Why droop we thus, and chafe in 
sullen desperation ? We have strong limbs ; we have sharp 
swords. Let us turn them no longer against one another, for 
Kome's inhuman pastime : — let us turn them against our 
tyrants ! What though they are many, and we are few ? Is 
not one of us a match for a dozen of these effeminate lords 7 
What though they are rich, and we are poor? Have we not 
an inheritance of wrongs too vast, almost, to be reckoned ? 

Listen, brothers ! The city is wrapt in sleep. The guards 
that would oppose us may be easily overpowered, and their 
weapons seized. Thus doubly armed, we may make our way 
into the open country, and by sunrise be able to defy our 
masters. — Masters, did I say ? Are we not grown men, and, 
by the law of nature, our own masters only ? 

Liberty ! blessing which they only who have lost can 
duly prize — do we indeed behold thee in the distance, beck- 
oning us to thy embrace ? Yes, it is she, my brethren ! And 
what must we do to reach her ? This merely — dare ! In 
that one word lies the secret — dare ! 

Rise, then, ye victims of Roman cruelty and pride ! Re- 
solve to be slaves no longer ! Are we not armed ? At least, 
we can die like men, fighting for our freedom, hewing down 
our oppressors, — selling our lives at a dear price, not cheaply ^ 
on the shambles of the a-re'na. LTp, then, and on ! Victory | 
is to the brave. Adventures are to the adventurous. Follow 
me. The first step, remember, is — dare ! osborne. 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 



Ill 




THE WAR-HORSE. 

Hast tliou given the horse strength ? hast thou clothed his 
pieck with thunder ? 

Canst thou make him afraid as a grasshopper ? The glory 
of his nostrils is terrible. 

He paweth in the valley, and rejoiceth in his strength : he 
Igoeth on to meet the armed men. 

He mocketh at fear, and is not affrighted ; neither turneth 
ho back from the sword. 

The quiver rattleth against him, the glittering spear and 
the shield. 

He swalloweth the ground with fierceness and rage : neither 
believeth he that it is the sound of the trumpet. 

He saith among the trumpets, Ha, ha ! and he smelleth 
the battle afar off, the thunder of the captains, and the 
shouting. JOB. 



112 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

THE CHILD'S FIRST GRIEF. 
" ! CALL my brother back to me ! — 

I can not play alone ! 
The summer comes with flower and bee - 

Where is my brother gone ? 

'' The butterfly is glancing bright 

Across the sunbeam's track : 
I care not now to chase its flight — 

0. call my brother back ! 

" The flowers run wild — the flowers we sowed 

Around our garden tree ; 
Our vine is drooping with its load — 

0, call him back to me ! " 

" He would not hear my voice, fair child ! 

He may not. come to thee; 
The face that once like spring-time smiled 

On earth no more thou 'It see. 

"The rose's brief, bright life of joy, 

Such unto him was given : 
Go, — thou must play alone, my boy ! 

Thy brother is in heaven." 

" And has he left his birds and flowers? 

And-must I call in vain ? 
And through the long, long summer hours, 

Will he not come again? 

" And by the brook, and in the glade. 
Are all our wanderings o'er ? 

! while my brother with me played, 
Would I had loved him more ! " 

MRS. HEMANS. 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 113 

THE FOLLY OF PRIDE. 

Take some quiet, sober moment of life, and add together 
the two ideas of pride and of man ; behold him, a creature 
I of a span high, stalking through infinite space, in all the 
grandeur of littleness. Perched on a little speck of the 
universe, every wind of heaven strikes into his blood the cold- 
ness of death ; his soul fleets from his body, like melody from 
the string ; day and night, as dust on the wheel, he is rolled 
along the heavens, through a labyrinth of worlds, and all the 
systems and creations of God are flaming above and beneath. 
Is this a creature to revel in his greatness ? Is this a 
creature to make to himself a crown of glory ; to deny his 
own flesh and blood ; and to mock at his fellow, sprung from 
that dust to which they both will soon return? Does the 
proud man not err ? Does he not suff'er ? Does he not die ? 
When he reasons, is he never stopped by difficulties? When 
he acts, is he never tempted by pleasures ? When he lives, 
is he free from pain ? When he dies, can he escape from the 
common grave ? Pride is not the heritage of man ; humility 
should dwell with frailty, and atone for ignorance, error, and 
imperfection. Sidney smith. 

ON EMPLOYING INDIANS AGAINST THE AMERICANS. 

Ml' LORDS, this barbarous measure has been defended, not 
only on the principles of policy and necessity, but also on 
those of morality ; "for it is perfectly allowable," says Lord 
Suffolk, " to use all the means which God and nature have 
put into our hands." I am astonished, shocked, to hear such 
principles confessed ; to hear them avowed in this house, or 
in this country ! 

My lords, I did not intend to trespass again on your atten- 
tion ; but I can not repress my indignation ; - — I feel myself 
10^ 



114 THE PR131ARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

impelled to speak. My lords, we are called upon as members 
of this house, as men, as Christian men, to protest against 
such notions. " That God and nature have put into our 
hands ! " — I know not what ideas that noble lord may enter- 
tain of God and nature ; but I know that such abominable 
principles are equally abhorrent to religion and humanity. 
What ! attribute the sacred sanction of God and nature to 
the massacres of the Indian scalping-knife ! to the cannibal 
savage, torturing, murdering, devouring, — literally, my lords, 
devouring the mangled victims of his barbarous battles! 
Such horrible notions shock every precept of religion, revealed 
or natural, and every generous feeling of humanity ; and, my 
lords, they shock every sentiment of honor. 

These abominable principles, and this more abominable 
avowal of them, demand the most decisive indignation ! I 
call upon that right reverend and this most learned bench, to 
vindicate the religion of their God, to support the justice of 
their country. I call upon the bishops to interpose the unsul- 
lied sanctity of their lawn, — upon the judges, to interpose 
the purity of their ermine, to save us from this pollution. I 
call upon the honor of your lordships, to reverence the dig- 
nity of your ancestors, and to maintain your own. I call 
upon the spirit and humanity of my country, to vindicate the 
national character. I invoke the genius of the constitution. 
I solemnly call upon your lordships, and upon every order of 
men in the state, to stamp upon this infamous procedure the 
indelible stigma of the public abhorrence ! 

EARL OF CHATHAM. 



DELAY NOT. 

" To-MORROw, not to-day, I '11 do it ! " 

'T is thus the idle learn to rue it : — 

" To-morrow I will strive anew ! 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 115 

To-morrow, no more dissipation ! 
To-morrow, serious application ! 
To-morrow, this and that I '11 do." 

And wherefore not to-day ? To-morrow 
Will also be for thee too narrow : 

To every day its task assign ! 
What 's done, we know is done for ever ; 
But what to-morrow granteth, never 

Can be foreseen by wit of thine. 

On ! on ! or thou wilt be retreating ; 
For flesh is weak, and time is fleeting : 

Advance, or thou wilt backward go ! 
What we have now. is in our power, — 
The present good, the present hour, — 

The future, who can claim or know ? 

Each day, in base inaction fleeing. 
Is, in the volume of thy being, 

A page unwritten, blank, and void : 
! write on its unsullied pages 
Deeds to be read by coming ages : 

Be every day alike employed ! 



THE SPIDER AND THE FLY. 

" "Will you walk into my parlor ? " said the spider to the fly ; 

" 'T is the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy ; 

The way into the parlor is up a winding stair, 

And I have many a curious thing to show when you are there ! " 

** 0, no, no ! " said the little fly ; '' to ask me is in vain. 

For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come down again." 

*' I 'm sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high ; 
Will you rest upon my little bed ? " said the spider to the fly : 



116 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

*' There are pretty curtains drawn around, the sheets are fine and thin, 
And if you like to rest a while, I '11 snugly tuck you in." 
*' 0, no, no," said the little fly ; '' for I 'ye often heard it said. 
They never, never wake again, who sleep upon.your bed." 

Said the cunning spider to the fly, '' Dear friend, what can I do 

To prove the warm affection I 've always felt for you ? 

I have, within my pantry, good store of all that 's nice ; 

I 'm sure you 're very welcome, — will you please to take a slice? " 

''0, no, no," said the little fly ; '^ kind sir, that can not be ; 

I 've heard what 's in your pantry, and I do not wish to see." 

" Sweet creature," said the spider, '' you 're witty and you 're wise ; 

How handsome are your gaudy wings, how brilliant are your eyes 

I have a little looking-glass upon my parlor shelf : 

If you '11 step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself." 

" I thank you, gentle sir," she said, " for what you 're pleased to say. 

And, bidding you good-morrow now, I '11 call another day." 

The spider turned him round about, and went into his den. 

For well he knew the silly fly would soon come back again. 

So he wove a subtle web in a little corner sly, 

And set his table ready to dine upon the fly. 

Then he came out to his door again, and merrily did sing, 

" Come hither, hither, pretty fly, with the pearl and silver wing ; 

Your robes are green and purple, there 's a crest upon your head ; 

Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead." 

Alas ! alas ! how very soon this silly little fly, 
Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by ! 
With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew, 
Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue ; 
Thinking only of her crested head, poor foolish thing ! at last 
Up jumped the cunning spider, and fiercely held her fast. 

He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den. 
Within his little parlor, — but she ne'er came out again ! 
And now, my dear young pupils, who may this story read, 
To idle, silly, flattering words, I pray you give no heed ; 
Unto an evil counselor close heart, and ear, and eye. 
And take a lesson from this tale of the spider and the fly. 

MARY HOWITT. 



THE PRIMAllY STANDAKD SPEAKER. 



117 




THE USE OF FLOWERS. 

GrOD might have made the earth bring forth 

Enough for great and small, — 
The oak-tree and the cedar-tree, — 

Without a fiower at all. 

Then, wherefore, wherefore were they made, 

All dyed with rainbow light, 
All fashioned with supremest grace, 

Upspringing day and night, — 

Springing in valleys green and low, 

And on the mountains high, 
And in the silent wilderness, 

Where no man passes by ? 

Our outward life requires them not, — 

Then wherefore had they birth ? 
To minister delight to man ! 

To beautify the earth ! 

To comfort man, — to whisper hope. 

Whene'er his faith is dim ! 
For He who careth for the flower 

Will much more care for him, mahy howitt. 



118 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 



THE ALARM. 



Up the hillside, down the glen, 
E-ouse the sleeping citizen, 
Summon out the mio;ht of men ! 

Like a lion crouching low, 
Like a night-storm rising slow, 
Like the tread of unseen foe, — 

It is coming — it is nigh ! 
Stand your homes and altars by ! 
On your own free hearthstones die ! 

Clang the bells in all your spires ! — 
On the gray hills of your sires 
Fling to heaven your signal-fires ! 

1 for God and duty stand, 
Heart to heart, and hand to hand, 
Kound the old graves of your land ! 

Whoso shrinks and falters now, 
Whoso to the yoke would bow, 
Brand the craven on his brow ! whittier. 



A WINTER SERMON. 
Thou dwellest in a warm and cheerful home, 

Thy roof in vain the winter tempest lashes ; 
While houseless wretches round thy mansion roam, 

On whose unsheltered heads the torrent plashes. 

Thy board is loaded with the richest meats. 

O'er which thine eyes in sated languor wander , 

Many might live on what thy mastiff eats, 

Or feast on fragments which thy servants squander. 



THE PKIMAIIY STANDARD SPEAKER, 119 

Thy limbs are muffled from the piercing blast, 
When from thy fireside corner thou dost sally ; 

Many have scarce a rag about them cast, 

With which the frosty breezes toy and dally. 

Thou hast soft smiles to greet thy kiss of love, 
Y/hen thy light step resounds within the portal ; 

Some have no friends save Him who dwells above, 
'No sweet communion with a fellow-mortal. 

Thou sleepest soundly on thy costly bed, 

Lulled by the power of luxuries unnumbered ; 

Some pillow on a stone an aching head, 

Never again to wake when they have slumbered- 

Then think of those, who, formed of kindred clay, 
Depend upon the doles thy bounty scatters ; 

And Grod will hear them for thy welfare pray — 
They are His children, though in rags and tatters. 

HOUSEHOLD WORDS, 



EDUCATION. 



On a cold morning, early in spring, I observed an old 
gardener busy among the bare boughs of his fruit-trees. He 
plucked a sm^all twig, opened the hard, scaly bud with his 
pen-knife, and seemed quite engrossed with what appeared to 
me a very insignificant object. As I knew the gentleman to 
be no trifier, I began to feel curious to know what he was 
about ; so, as the quickest way to come at the matter, I ven- 
tured the question direct : " Pardon me, Uncle Jerry, but 
what in the world are you searching for in that ill-looking 
little bud?" The old man smiled, and replied : " A future 
harvest. There will be plenty of peaches next September, if 



120 THE PllIMAIlY STANDAllD SPEAKER. 

the frosts hold off." — "I should like to see the proof of so 
confident a projDhecy," said I. 

He opened another bud, and showed me what he called the 
flower-bud ; the germ of the future fruit being distinctly visi- 
ble, though so minute as only to be seen on close inspection. 
"Sure enough," I said to myself; "here are all the rudi- 
ments of the future peach wrapped up and concealed in that^ 
diminutive bud." The incident was suggestive, and led toj 
some reflections. Such, thought I, is the mind of the child iX 
It contains within itself all the germs of its future life,] 
wrapped, concealed, and shielded, in the bud of infancy. 
"What is the proper business of education? What, but the 
most perfect development of the mind ? n. vail. 



THANKSGIVING HYMN. 
Father of earth and heaven, 

Whose arm upholds creation. 
To Thee we raise the voice of praise, 

And bend in adoration. 

We praise the power that made us ; 

We praise the love that blesses ; 
While every day that rolls away 

Thy gracious care confesses. 

Life is from Thee, blest Father ; 

From Thee all breathing spirits ; 
And Thou dost give to all that live 

The bliss that each inherits. 

Day, night, and rolling seasons, 

And all that life embraces, 
With bliss are crowned, with joy abound, 

And claim our thankful praises. 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 121 

And when Death's final summons 

From earth's clear scenes shall move us, — 
From friends, from foes, from joys, from woes, 

From all that know and love us, — 

0, then let hope attend us ! 

Thy peace to us be given ! 
That we may rise above the skies. 

And sing thy praise in heaven ! 



HORATIUS OFFERS TO DEFEND THE BRIDGE. 

Then out spake brave Horatius, 

The captain of the gate : 
<' To every man upon this earth 

Death cometh, soon or late ; 
And how can man die better 

Than facing fearfal odds 
For the ashes of his fathers 

And the temples of his gods ? 

" Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul, 

With all the speed ye may ; 
I, with two more to help me. 

Will hold the foe in play. 
In yon strait path a thousand 

May well be stopped by three ; 
Now, who will stand on either hand. 

And keep the bridge with me ? " 

Then outspake Spurius Lartius ; 

A Kamnian bold was he : 
" Lo ! I will stand at thy right hand. 

And keep the bridge with thee." 
11 



122 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

And outspake strong Herminius ; 

Of Titian blood was he : 
" I will abide on thy left side, 

And keep the bridge with thee." 

*' Horatius," quoth the Consul, 

" As thou say'st, so let it be ! " 
And straight against that great array 

Forth went the dauntless three. 
Por Romans in Rome's quarrels 

Spared neither land nor gold, 
Nor son nor wife, nor limb nor life. 

In the brave days of old. 



MACAULAY. 



LIFE COMPARED TO A RIVER. 

River ! River ! little River ! 

Bright you sparkle on your way ; 
O'er the yellow pebbles dancing. 
Through the flowers and foliage glancing, 

Like a child at play. 

River ! River ! swelling River ! 

On you rush o'er rough and smooth, 
Louder, faster, brawling, leaping 
Over rocks, by rose-banks sweeping. 

Like impetuous youth. 

River ! River ! brimming River ! 

Broad and deep and still as Time, 
Seeming still, yet still in motion, 
Tending onward to the ocean, 

Just like mortal prime. 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 123 

River ! River ! rapid River ! 

Swifter now you slip awaj ; 
Swift and silent as an arrow, 
Throuo-li a channel dark and narrow, 

Like life's closing day. 

River ! River ! headlong River ! 

Down you dash into the sea ; 
Sea that line hath never sounded, 
Sea that voyage hath never rounded, 

Like eternity. mrs. southey. 



THE LION AND THE GOATS. 
Prefer a safe and humble lot 
To luxuries by danger got. 

A Lion seeing from below 

Goats feeding on a craggy brow, 

*' Come down," he says ; " you here will find 

Herbage of a superior kind." — 

" We thank you for your royal care," 

Says one, " but like our present fare : 

The pasture may not be so good, 

But we i7i safety crop our food." 



A PRAYER. 
Father of light and life ! thou Good Supreme ! 
0, teach vie what is good ! teach me Thyself ! 
Save me from folly, vanity, and vice. 
From every low pursuit, and feed my soul 
With knowledge, conscious peace, and virtue pure — 
Sacred, substantial, never-fading bliss ! 

THOMSON. 



124 THE PillMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

NOT AN UNCOMMON COMPLAINT. 
Enter John, followed by a Beggar. 

Beggar, For the love of mercy, sir, pity a poor boy, and 
give him alms ! 

John. Grive him alms ! Why, you have two stout arms of 
your own, and look as strong and hearty as a young bear. 

Beggar. Ah ! sir, it is all a deception. I have a disease 
about me which I can not well explain to you, but which saps 
my strength and prevents my working. 

John. You a sick man ? Let me feel of your pulse. 
(Feels of his pulse.) A good, strong, regular pulse ! Why, 
what 's the matter with you ? 

Beggar. If you would but give me a little money first, 
sir, I will tell you all that I know about my complaint. 

John. I don't like to encourage beggars ; but, since you 
are an invalid, I will assist you. (Offering money.) There 's 
a quarter of a dollar. 

Beggar. Would you take the trouble, sir, to put it in my 
pocket ? You see my arm drops to my side, if I but raise it. 

John. Poor fellow ! I will make the quarter a half. 
(Butting money in the Beggar's j9ocZ:e^.) There ! Now let 
me know all about your troubles. 

Beggar. Well, sir, you must know that my father sent me 
to school, but this complaint of mine prevented my studying. 
The very sight of a book would bring on a paroxysm. Father 
then bound me apprentice to a farmer ; but, the moment I 
took a rake or a hoe in hand, I would have a violent attack 
of this terrible disease, till, sir, I had to give up. 

John. Poor, poor fellow ! I have but a few cents left, 
but here they are. 

Beggar. Shall I trouble you again, sir ? (John j)uts them 
in his pocket.) 



THPJ PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 125 

John. You seem to be tired of standing, my poor fellow. 
Let me hand jou a chair. {Hands hiin a chair, and helps 
him to sit dawn.) 

Beggar, Thank jou, sir, thank you ; I have felt, all the 
morning, as if an attack were coming on. 

John. How does it come on ? 

Beggar. Why, sir, I feel- all over like a wet rag, and as if 
I did n't want to move. Sometimes I don't want to drag one 
foot before the other. 

John. Have you taken no medicine ? 

Beggar. V/"ell, father made me swallow some essence of 
birch, and tried drenching me with cold water. But nothing 
would cure me. 

John. What do the doctors say ? 

Beggar. The doctors say that the malady is beyond their 
reach. One doctor recommended the bastinado. 

John. The bastinado ? Is that a medicine ? 

Beggar. Truly, I don't know what it is, sir ; but I think 
it 's an outward application. 

John. But what 's the nature of the complaint ? What 
part of your system does it affect in particular ? 

Beggar. Alas ! sir, the disease which afflicts me is far 
different from what you conceive, and is such as you can not 
discern ; yet it is an evil which has crept over my whole 
body ; it has passed through my veins and marrow, in such a 
manner that there is no member of my body that is able to 
work for my daily bread. 

John. Is there no name for the disease ? 

Beggar. 0, yes ! [Rising, and yawning) By some it is 
called laziness — by others, sloth. 

John. (Trying to strike him with a stick.) Eascal ! Im- 
postor ! Give me back my money ! I '11 cure you of your 
disease ! {Chases him about the stage.) Here is a doctor for 
11# 



126 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

you! {Showing his stick.) You lazy reprobate ! Could not 
lift your hand to your pocket — eh ? 

Beggar. ! don't make me run ! Don't make me run ! 
[Exeunt, John beating him.) osborne. 



NEW YEAR'S ADDRESS TO CHILDREN. 

My children, 't is the New Year's morn, 

And many a wish for you is born, 

And many a prayer of spirit true 

Breaks from parental lips for you. 

The country, too, which gave you birth — 

The freest, happiest clime on earth, 

To all, to each, with fervor cries, 

*' Child ! for my sake, be good, be wise, 

Seek knowledge, and with studious pain 

E^esolve her priceless gold to gain : 

Shun the strong cup, whose poisonous tide 

To Ruin's dark abyss doth guide ; 

And with the sons of Virtue stand. 

The bulwark of your native land. 

Me would you serve ? this day begin 

The fear of God, the dread of sin ; 

Love for instruction's watchful care — 

T^he patient task, the nightly prayer : 

So shall you glitter as a gem. 

Bound in my brightest diadem." 



SPEECH OF A CHOCTAW CHIEF. 

Brother, my voice is weak ; you can scarcely hear me ; 

it is not the shout of a warrior, but the wail of an infant ; I 

have lost it in mourning over the misfortunes of my people. 

These are their graves, and in those aged pines you hear the 



THE PRI3IARY STANDAKD SPEAKER. 127 

ghosts of the departed. Their ashes are here, and we have 
been left to protect them. Our warriors are nearly all gone 
to the far country west ; but here are our dead. Shall we go, 
too, and give their bones to the wolves ? 

Brother^ you ask us to leave our country, and you tell us 
this is the wish of our father, the great white Chief at Wash- 
ington. Brother, our hearts are full. Twelve winters ago, 
our chiefs sold our country. Every warrior that you see 
here was opposed to the treaty. If the dead could have been 
counted, it would never have been made. But, alas ! though 
they stood around, they could not be seen or heard. Their 
tears came in the rain-drops, and their voices in the wailing 
wind. But the pale-faces knew it not, and our land was 
taken away. 

Brother, we do not now complain. The Choctaw suffers, 
but he never weeps. You have the strong arm, and we can 
not resist. But the pale-face worships the Great Spirit — so 
does the red man — and the Great Spirit loves truth. When 
you took our country, you promised us land. There is your 
promise in the book. Twelve times have the trees dropped 
down their leaves, and yet we have received no land. Our 
houses have been taken from us. The white man's plow 
turns up the bones of our fathers. We dare not kindle our 
fires ; and yet you said we might remain, and you would give 
us land. Brother, is this truth ? 

You stand in the moccasins of a great chief; you speak 
the words of a mighty nation. Your talk was long. My 
people are small ; their shadow scarcely reaches to your 
knees ; they are scattered and gone. When I shout, I hear 
my voice in the depths of the woods, but no answering shout 
comes back. My words, therefore, are few. I have nothing 
more to say. 



128 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 




DOMESTIC HARMONY. 

Since trifles make the sum of human things, 

And half our misery from our foibles springs ; 

Since life's best joys consist in peace and ease, 

And though but few can serve, yet all may please - 

! let the ungentle spirit learn from hence, 

A small unkindness is a great offense. 

To spread large bounties though we wish in vain, 

Yet all may shun the guilt of giving pain. 

To bless mankind with tides of flowing wealth, 

With rank to grace them, or to crown with health, 

Our little lot denies : but Heaven decrees 

To all the gift of ministering to ease ; — 

The gentle offices of patient love. 

Beyond all flattery, and all price above ; 

The mild forbearance at another's fault ; 

The taunting word suppressed as soon as thought ; 

The kind attention — all the peace which springs 

Frbm the large aggregate of little things, — 

On these small cares of daughter, wife, or friend, 

The almost sacred joys of home depend ! 

A solitary blessing few can find ; 

Our joys with those we love are intertwined; 



THB PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 129 

And he, whose wakeful tenderness removes 

The obstructing thorn which wounds the breast he loveSj 

Smooths not another's rugged path alone, 

But scatters roses to perfume his own ! 

MRS* H. MORE. 



THE BEST WISH. 
Say, my child, what would you do^ 
If a fairy said to you, 
" Bid me only wave my hand, 
And before me you shall stand, 
Changed in mind, and form, and voice, 
To whatever is your choice ! '* 

Soon the child's reply is heard : 
" I would be a merry bird, 
Playing blithely as I please 
Ever 'mid the flowers and trees; 
In the sunshine all day long, 
And my only task a song ! " 

" Flowers and sunshine soon will go : 
Think, my child, of frost and snow ; 
When the forest boughs are bare, 
Will the bird be singing there ? 
Pause a while, and then rejoice 
That you can not have your choice. 

" Bather be a man of worth, • 

Prompt to do good deeds on earth ; 
Work with zeal, your task will prove 
Easy as the song you love. 
They have sunshine, they have flowers, 
Who look back on well-spent hours ! " 

T, H. BAYLY, 



130 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

DAVID'S LAMENT FOR SAUL AND JONATHAN. 

The beauty of Israel is slain upon thy high places : how 
are the mighty fallen ! 

Tell it not in Gath, publish it not in the streets of Aske- 
lon ; lest the daughters of the Philistines rejoice, lest the 
daughters of the uncircumcised triumph. 

Ye mountains of Gril-bo'a, let there be no dew, neither let 
there be rain upon you, nor fields of ofierings : for there the 
shield of the mighty is vilely cast away, the shield of Saul, 
as though he had not been anointed with oil. 

From the blood of the slain, from the fat of the mighty, 
the bow of Jonathan turned not back, and the sword of Saul 
returned not empty. 

Saul and Jonathan were lovely and pleasant in their lives, 
and in their death they were not divided ; they were swifter 
than eagles, they were stronger than lions. 

Ye daughters of Israel, weep over Saul, who clothed you 
in scarlet, with other delights, who put on ornaments of gold 
upon your apparel. 

How are the mighty fallen in the midst of the battle ! 
Jonathan, thou wast slain in thine high places. 

I am distressed for thee, my brotlier Jonathan : very 
pleasant hast thou been unto me ; thy love to me was won- 
derful, passing the love of women. 

How are the mighty fallen, and the weapons of war per- 
ished ! BIBLE. 



LUCY'S LAMB. 

Lucy had a little lamb. 

Its fleece was white as snow, 

And every where that Lucy went 
The lamb was sure to go. 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 131 

He followed her to school one day, 

Which was against the rule ; 
It made the children laugh and play 

To see a lamb at school. 

And so the teacher turned him out ; 

But still he lingered near, 
And in the grass he fed about 

Till Lucy did appear. 

To her he ran, and then ho laid 

His head upon her arm, 
As if to say, " I 'm not afraid — 

You '11 shield me from all harm." 

" What makes the lamb love Lucy so ? '' 

The little children cried. 
" ! Lucy loves the lamb, you know,'* 

The teacher quick replied. 



SONG OF THE MOUNTAIN BOY. 
The mountain shepherd-boy am I ! 
Castles and lakes beneath me lie ! 
The sun's first rosy beams are mine ; 
At eve his latest on me shine ; 

I am the mountain-boy ! 

The flowing torrent here has birth ; 
I drink it fresh from out the cartli ; 
It gushes from its rocky bed, — 
I catch it with my arms outspread ! 
I am the mountain-boy ! 

To me belongs the mountain height ; 
Around me tempests wing their flight ; 



132 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

From north and south their blasts they call ; 
My song is heard above them all ; 
I am the mountain-boy ! 

Thunder and lightnings under me, 
The blue expanse above I see ; 
I greet the storms with friendly tone : 
** 0, leave my father's cot alone ! 

I am the mountain-boy ! " 

And when the tocsin calls to arms, 
And mountain bale-fires spread alarms, 
Then I descend and join the throng, 
And swing my sword, and sing my song — 
I am the mountain-boy ! 

PROM THE GERMAN OF TJHLAND. 



THE THREE HOMES. 
" Where is thy home ? " I asked a child, 

Who, in the morning air, 
Was twining flowers most sweet and wild 

In garlands for her hair. 
** My home," the happy heart replied, 

And smiled in childish glee, 
" Is on the sunny mountain side, 

Where soft winds wander free." 
O ! blessings fall on artless youth, 

And all its 4:osy hours, 
When every word is joy and truth, 

And treasures live in flowers ! 

" Vv^here is thy home ? " I asked of one 
Who bent, with flushing face, 

To hear a warrior's tender tone, 
In tho wild wood's secret place. 



THE PIIIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 133 

She spoke not, but her varying cheek 

The tale might well impart ; 
The home of her young spirit meek 

Was in a kindred heart. 
Ah ! souls that well might soar above, 

To earth will fondly cling, 
And build their hopes on human love, 

That light and fragile thing ! 

*' Where is thy home, thou lonely man ? " 

I asked a pilgrim gray, 
Who came with furrowed brow, and wan, 

Slow moving on his wajr. 
He paused, and with a solemn mien 

Upturned his holy eyes, — 
** The land I seek thou ne'er hast seen ; 

My home is in the skies ! " 
O ! blest, thrice blest, the heart must be 

To whom such thoughts are given, 
That walks from worldly fetters free ; — 

Its only home is heaven ! 



VIRTUE AND ERROR. 



Many there are who of their lot complain ; 
Many there are who rail at fate in vain ; 
But on himself weak man should vent his rage, - 
Error in youth must lead to gloom in age. 

Many there are content in humblest lot ; 
Many there are, though poor, who murmur not : 
Write, then, in gold, on their recording page, — 
Virtue in youth must lead to bliss in age. 

T. H. BAYLY. 

12 



134 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

OUR FAVOKITE PLACE. 

Where the silvery pond is brightest, 
Where the lilies grow the whitest, 
Where the river meets the sea, — 
That 's the j^lace for Frank and me. 

Where the dovecot is the neatest, 
Where the blackbird sings the sweetest, 
Where the nestlings chirp and flee, — 
That 's the place for Frank and me. 

Where the mowers mow the cleanest, 
Where the hay lies thick and greenest, 
Where is seen the homeward bee, — 
That 's the place for Frank and me. 

Where the sunny bank is steepest, 
Where the cooling shade is deepest, 
Where the ripened nuts fall free, — 
That 's the place for Frank and me. 



^ORK AND PLAY. 

Work while you work, play while you play : 
That is the way to be cheerful and gay. 

All that you do, do with your might ; 
Things done by halves are never done right. 

One at a time, and that done well. 
Is a good rule, as I can tell. 

Moments are useless, trifled away ; 

Work while you work, and play while you play. 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 135 

SPEECH OF KED JACKET, AN INDIAN CHIEF. 

Brothers, listen to what we have to saj : There was a 
time when our forefathers owned this great land ; their seats 
extended from the rising to the setting sun ; the Great Spirit 
had made it for the use of the Indians. He had created the 
buffalo, the deer, and other animals, for food. He had made 
the bear and the beaver ; their skins served us for clothing. 
He had scattered them over the country, and taught us how 
to take them. He had caused the earth to produce corn for 
bread. All this he had done for his red children, because he 
loved them. If we had disputes about our hunting-grounds, 
they were generally settled without the shedding of much 
blood. 

But an evil day came upon us : your forefathers crossed 
the great waters, and landed on this continent. Their num- 
bers were small ; they found us friends, and not enemies. 
They told us they had fled from their own country, through 
fear of wicked men, and had come here to enjoy their religion. 
They asked for a small seat : we took pity on them, and 
granted their request, and they sat down among us. We 
gave them corn and meat, and, in return, they gave us poison. 

The white people having now found our country, tidings 
were sent back, and more came among us ; yet we did not fear 
them. We took them to be friends — they called us broth- 
ers ; and we believed them, and gave them a larger seat. At 
length their number so increased that they wanted more land; 
they wanted our whole country. Our eyes were now opened, 
and we became uneasy. Wars took place. Indians were 
hired to fight against Indians, and many of our people were 
destroyed. The white men also distributed liquor among us ; 
and that has slain thousands. 

You have now become a great people, and we have scarcely 



186 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

a place left to spread our blankets. Having deprived us of 
our country^ you would force upon us your religion. Broth- 
ers, we will wait a little, and, if we find the effect of your 
religion is to make people honest, and less disposed to cheat 
Indians, we will consider what you have said. And now may 
the Great Spirit protect you on your journey, and return you 
safe to your friends ! 



TRUE FRIENDSHIP. 



If scandal or censure is raised 'gainst a friend, 
Be the last to believe it, the first to defend ; 
Say to-morrow will come, and time will unfold. 
That " one story 's good till another is told." 

A friend 's like a ship when with music and song 
The tide of good fortune still speeds him along ; 
But see him when tempest has made him a wrecks 
And any mean billow may batter his deck ! 

So give me the heart that true sympathy shows, 
And clings to a messmate whatever wind blows, 
And says, when aspersion unanswered grows bold, 
"Wait, — one story's good till another is told." 



CHARMING LITTLE VALLEY. 

Charming little valley, 
Smiling all so gayly, 

Like an angel's brow ; 
Spreading out thy treasures^ 
Calling us to pleasures, 

Innocent as thou : 



THE PRIMAKY gTANBAKD SPEAKER. 137 

Skies are bright above thee, 
Peace and quiet love thee, 

Tranquil little dell ! 
In thy fragrant bowers, 
Twining wreaths of flowers. 

Love and Friendship dwell. 

May our spirits daily 

Be like thee, sweet valley. 

Tranquil and serene : 
Emblem to us given 
Of the vales of heaven, 

Ever bright and green ! 



SPEAK NOT HAKSHLY. 
Speak not harshly ! — much of care 
Every human heart must bear ; 
Enough of shadows darkly lie 
Veiled within the sunniest eye. 
By thy childhood's gushing tears. 
By thy griefs of after years. 
By the anguish thou dost know, 
Add not to another's woe. 

Speak not harshly ! — much of sin 

Dwelleth every heart within ; 

In its closely-covered cells 

Many a wayward passion dwells. 

By thy many hours misspent, 

By thy gifts to errors lent, 

By the wrong thou didst n©t shun 

By the good thou hast not done, 

With a lenient spirit scan 

The weakness of thy fellow-man. 
12* 



138 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 




THEEE'S WOKK ENOUGH TO DO. 
The black-bird early leaves its rest, 

To meet the smiling morn, 
And gather fragments for its nest 

From upland, wood, and lawn. 
The busy bee, that wings its way 

'Mid sweets of varied hue. 
And every flower, would seem to say, 

*' There 's work enough to do." 

The cowslip and the spreading vine, 

The daisy in the grass, 
The snowdrop and the eglantine. 

Preach sermons as we pass. 
The ant, within its cavern deep, 

Would bid us labor too. 
And writes upon his tiny heap, 

" There 's work enough to do." 

The planets, at their Maker's will, 
Move onward in their cars, 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 139 

For Nature's will is never still — 

Progressive as the stars ! 
The leaves that flutter in the air, 

And Summer's breezes woo. 
One solemn truth to man declare — 

" There 's work enouo-h to do." 



KEPLY OF GRATTAN TO COHRY. 

The right honorable gentleman has called me " an unim- 
peached traitor." I will not call him villain^ because it 
would be unparliamentary, and he is a privy councilor. I 
will not call him fool^ because he happens to be Chancellor 
of the Exchequer. But I say he is one who has abused the 
privilege of Parliament and freedom of debate to the utter- 
ing language, which, if spoken out of the house, I should 
only answer with a blow ! I care not how high his situation, 
how low his character, how contemptible his speech ; whether 
a privy councilor or a parasite, my answer would be a blow ! 

I have returned, not, as the right honorable member has 
said, to raise another storm ; I have returned to discharge an 
honorable debt of gratitude to my country, that conferred a 
great reward for past services, which I am proud to say was 
not greater than my de-serf ; I have returned to protect that 
constitution of which I was the parent and the founder, from 
the assassination of such men as the honorable gentleman and 
his unworthy associates. They are corrupt; they are sedi- 
tious ; and, at this very moment, are in a conspiracy against 
their country ! 

I have returned to refute a libel, as false as it is malicious, 
given to the public under the appellation of a report of the 
committee of the Lords. Here I stand for impeachment or 
trial. I dare accusation. I defy the honorable gentleman. 



140 THE PIIIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

I defy the government. I defy their whole phal'anx. Let 
them come forth ! I tell the ministers I shall neither give 
quarter nor take it. 

THE LIFE-BOAT. 

Quick ! man the life-boat ! See yon bark, 

That drives before the blast ! 
There 's a rock ahead, the fog is dark, 

And the storm comes thick and fast. 
Can human power, in such an hour, 

Avert the doom that 's o'er her ? 
Her main-mast is gone, but she still drives on 

To the fatal reef before her. 

The life-boat ! Man the life-boat ! 

Quick ! man the life-boat ! hark ! the gun 

Booms through the vapory air ; 
And see ! the signal-flags are on, 

And speak the ship's despair. 
That forked flash, that pealing crash, 

Seemed from the wave to sweep her : 
She 's on the rock, with a terrible shock — 

And the wail comes louder and deeper. 
The life-boat ! Man the life-boat ! 

Quick ! man the life-boat ! See — the crew 

Gaze on their watery grave : 
Already, some, a gallant few, 

Are battling with the wave ; 
And one there stands, and wrings his hands. 

As thoughts of home come o'er him ; 
For his wife and child, through the tempest wild. 

He sees on the heights before him. 
The life-boat ! Man the life-boat ! 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 141 

Speed, speed the life-boat ! Off she goes ! 

And, as they pulled the oar, 
From shore and ship a cheer arose 

That startled ship and shore. 
Life-saving ark ! yon fated bark 

Has human lives within her ; 
And dearer than gold is the wealth untold 

Thou 'It save if thou canst win her. 
On, life-boat ! Speed thee, life-boat ! 

Hurra ! the life-boat dashes on. 

Though darkly the reef may frown ; 
The rock is there — the ship is gone 

Full twenty fathoms down. 
But, cheered by hope, the seamen cope 

With the billows single-handed : 
They are all in the boat ! — hurra ! they 're afloat ! - — 

And now they are safely landed, 

Ey the life-boat ! Cheer the life-boat ! 



THE MOONLIGHT MARCH. 

I SEE them on their winding way : 
About their ranks the moonbeams play ; 
Their lofty deeds and daring high 
Blend with the notes of victory. 
And waving arms,, and banners bright, 
Are glancing in the mellow light : 
They 're lost — and gone ; the moon is past, 
The wood's dark shade is o'er them cast ; 
And fainter, fainter, fainter still 
The march is risinor o'er the hill. 



. I 



1 



142 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

Again, again, the pealing drum, 
The clashing horn — they come, they come . 
Through rocky pass, o'er wooded steep, 
In long and glittering files thej sweep. 
And nearer, nearer, yet more near. 
Their softened chorus meets the ear. 
Eorth, forth, and meet them on their way ! 
The trampling hoofs brook no delay ; 
With thrilling fife, and pealing drum, 
And clashing horn, they come, they come ! 

HEBER. 



HAVE A PURPOSE. 

If I were asked what attribute most commanded fortune, I 
should say " earnestness." The earnest man wins a way for 
himself, and earnestness and truth go together. Never afiect 
to be other than you are — either richer or wiser. Never be 
ashamed to say, "I do not know." Men will then believe 
you when you say, " I do know." 

Never be ashamed to say, whether as applied to time or 
money, " I can not afford it ; "— " I can not afford to waste an 
hour in the idleness to which you invite me, — I can not afford 
the guinea you ask me to throw away." Once establish your- 
self and your mode of life as what they really are, and your 
foot is on solid ground, whether for the gradual step onward, 
or for the sudden spring over a precipice. 

From these maxims let me deduce another, — learn to say 
*' No " with decision ; '' Yes " with caution ; — " No " with 
decision whenever it resists temptation ; '• Yes " with caution 
whenever it implies a promise. A promise once given is a 
bond inviolable. A man is already of consequence in the 
world when it is known that we can implicitly rely upon him. 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 143 

I have frequently seen in life a person preferred to a long list 
of applicants, for some important charge which lifts him at 
once into station and fortune, merely because he has this 
reputation, that when he says he knows a thing, he knows it, 
and when he says he will do a thing, he will do it. Muse 
over these maxims ; practice them ! sir e. b. lytton. 



OUR CHUKCHES AND SCHOOL-HOUSES. 

Attention to the wants of the intellect and of the soul, 
as manifested by the voluntary support of schools and col- 
leges, of churches and benevolent institutions, is one of the 
most remarkable characteristics of the American people. It 
is not less strikingly exhibited in the new than in the older 
settlements of the country. 

On the spot where the first trees of the forest are felled, 
near the log cabins of the pioneers, are to be seen rising 
together the church and the school-house. So has it been 
from the beginning, and G-od grant that it may ever thus con- 
tinue ! 

"On other shores, above their mouldering towns, 
In sullen pomp the tall cathedral frowns : 
Simple and frail, our lowly temples throw 
Their slender shadows on the paths below ; 
Scarce steals the wind, that sweeps the woodland tracks, 
The larch's perfume from the settler's ax, 
Ere, like a vision of the morning air, 
His slight- framed steeple marks the house of prayer. 

* 51? :^ * * 

Yet Faith's pure hymn, beneath its shelter rude. 
Breathes out as sweetly to the tangled wood. 
As where the rays through blazing oriels pour 
On marble shaft and tessellated floor.'^ 

WEBSTER. 



144 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 




THE ESQUIMAUX KAYAK. 

The little skiff in which the Esquimaux (Es'ke-mo) hunts the seal is 
called a kay-ak'. 

Over the briny wave I go, 

In spite of the weather, in spite of the snow : 

What cares the hardy Esquimaux ? 

In my little skiff, with paddle and lance, • 

I glide where the foaming billows dance : 

And when the cautious seal I spy, 

I poise my ready lance on high, 

And then like lightning let it fly. 

Round me the sea-birds dip and soar ; 
Like me they love the ocean's roar. 
Sometimes a floating iceberg gleams 
Over me with its melting streams. 
Sometimes a rushing wave will fall 
Down on my skiff, and cover it all. 
But what care I for the waves' attack ? 
With my paddle I right my little kayak ; 
And then its freight I speedily trim. 
And over the waters away I skim. 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 145 

Ye who lead a delicate life, 

Far from the ice and the billows' strife, 

What would ye think to be with me 

One hour upon this desolate sea ? — 

To glide where the young seals rise to breathe ; 

Where ridges of foam about them wreathe ; 

To stand on the ice where the walrus plays ; 

Or, hungry and savage, the white bear strays. 

! how would ye fancy sport like this ? 

Yet to me, ye men of the city, 't is bliss ! 



THE FRENCHMAN'S LESSON IN ENGLISH. 

Frenchman. Ha, my friend I I have met one very 
strange word in my lesson. Yat you call c-h-o-u-g-h, eh ? 

Tutor. Chuff. A chough is a bird of the crow family. 

jPr. Tres bien, very well ; c-h-o-u-g-h is chuff ; and snuff 
you spell s-n-o-u-g-h, eh ? 

Tu. 0, no, no ! snuff is spelled s-n-u-f-f. In fact, our 
words in aiigh are a little irregular. 

Fr, Ah ! Yery good ! 'T is beautiful language ! — 
C-h-o-u-g-h is chuff. I will remember; and of course 
c-o-u-g-h is kuff ; I have one very bad kuff, eh ? 

Tu. No, that is wrong : we say kauff, not kuff. 

Fr. Kauff, eh ? Chuff and kauff. Yer' well ; but, par- 
donnez moi, pardon me, how you call d-o-u-g-h — duff, eh ? 
Is it duff? 

Tu. No, not duff. 

Fr. Not duff ? Ah, oui ; I understand — it is dauff, ha ? 

Tu. No ; d-o-u-g-h spells doe. 

Fr. Doe ! It is ver' fine ! — wonderful language ! it is 
doe ! Eh bien ! Then t-o-u-g-h is toe, eh ? My beef-steak 
is toe ! 

18 



146 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKI:R. 

Tu. 0, no, no ! You should say tuff. 

Fr. Tuff? 0, ver' well! We will find it out bientot, 
by and by. The thing the farmer uses — how call you him, 
p-1-o-u-g-h, — pluff, is it ? Ha, you smile ; I am wrong, I 
see ; then it must be plauff. No ? Then it is ploe, like doe ? 
Beautiful language ! Ploe ! 

Tu, You are still wrong, my friend ; it is plow. 

Fr. 0, ver' well. Plow I I shall understand ver' soon. 
Plow, doe, kauff, chuff! I vill try to recollect. But here is 
one word, h-o-u-g-h, which means the joint of the leg of one 
beast. Do you call it huff? 

Tu, No. 

Fr. Hauff? 

Tu. No. 

jPr. Hoe? 

Tu. No. 

Fr. How ? 

Tu. No. 

Fr. Huff? 

Tu. No. 

Fr. O, the beautiful language ! Tell me what, then, is 
b-o-u-g-h ? 

Tu, We pronounce the word hok. 

Fr. Hok! 0, but that is delightful! Ver' beautiful 
language ! One more word I have : r-o-u-g-h — is it rok ? 
Do you call General Taylor, Bok and Beady ? No ? Is it 
then Bow and Beady, or Boe and Beady ? No ? Is it then 
Bauf and Beady ? 

Tu, No, no ! B-o-u-g-h spells ruff. 

Fr. It is ruff, is it ? Let me not forget. And b-o-u-g-h 
is buff, eh ? The buff of a tree ! 

Tu. 0, no ! B-o-u-g-h is bow. 

Fr, Ah ! 't is ver' simple ! Wonderful language I But I 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 147 

have had — what jou call e-n-o-u-g-h, ha ? vat you call him ? 
Enok, or enow, or enoe ? 

Tu, We say enuff. 

Fr. ! then I say enuff, too. I have had quite enuff for 
one lesson ! Bon jour, monsieur ! 



A MOTHER'S GIFT. 

Remember, love, who gave thee this, 
When other days shall come, — 

When she who had thine earliest kiss 
Sleeps in her narrow home. 

Remember, 'twas a mother gave 

The gift to one she 'd die to save ! 

That mother sought a pledge of love, 

The holiest for her son ; 
And from the gifts of Grod above 

She chose a goodly one : — 
She chose for her beloved boy 
The source of light, and life, and joy. 

And bade him keep the gift, that when 
The parting hour should come. 

They might have hope to meet again, 
In an eternal home. 

She said his faith in this would be 

Sweet incense to her memory. 

And should the scoffer, in his pride. 

Laugh that fond faith to scorn. 
And bid him cast the pledge aside. 

That he from youth had borne, 
She bade him pause, and ask his breast 
If she, or he, had loved him best. 



148 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

A parent's blessing on her son 

Goes with this holy thing ; 
The love that would retain the one 

Must to the other cling. 
Remember — 't is no idle toy — 
A mother's gift — remember, boy ! 

KENNEDY. 



CORN-FIELDS. 



When on the breath of autumn's breeze, 
From pastures dry and brown, 

Groes floating, like an idle thought. 
The fair, white thistle-down, — 

0, then what joy to walk at will 

Upon the golden harvest-hill ! 

What joy in dreamy ease to lie 

Amid a field new-shorn. 
And see all round, on sunlit slopes, 

The piled-up shocks of corn, 
And send the fancy wandering o'er 
All pleasant harvest-fields of yore ! 

I feel the day ; I see the field ; 

The quivering of the leaves ; 
And good old Jacob and his house 

Binding the yellow sheaves ! 
And at this very hour I seem 
To be with Joseph in his dream ! 

I see the fields of Bethlehem, 

And reapers many a one 
Bending unto their sickle's stroke, 

And Boaz looking on ; 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 149 

And Ruth, the Moabitess fair, 
Among the gleaners stooping there ! 

Again, I see a little child. 

His mother's sole delight ; 
God's living gift of love nnto 
The kind, good Shunamite ; 
^0 mortal pangs I see him yield, 
.nd the lad bear him from the field. 

I'he sun-bathed quiet of the hills, 

The fields of Galilee, 
That eighteen hundred years ago 

Were full of corn, I see ; 
And the dear Saviour take his way 
'Mid ripe ears on the Sabbath day. 

0, golden fields of bending corn, 

How beautiful they seem ! 
The reaper-folk, the piled-up sheaves. 

To me are like a dream ; 
The sunshine and the very air 
Seem of old time, and take me there ! 

MARY HOWITT. 



WHAT IS PROPERTY? 

Yonder stands an old tree which I call mine. Other gen- 
erations before me have dwelt under its shade, and called it 
theirs; and other generations after me will do the same. 
And yet I call the tree mine. A bird has built a nest on one 
of its highest branches, but I can not reach it, and yet I call 
the tree mine. 

Mine ! There is scarcely any thing which I call mine 
which will not last much longer in this world than I shall : 
13=^ 



150 THE PKIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

there is not a single button of my jacket that is not destined 
to survive me many years. 

What a strange thing is this property of which men are so 
envious ! When I had nothing of my own^ I had forests and 
meadows, and the sea, and the sky with all its stars ! 

I remember an old wood near to the house in which I was 
born. What days have I passed under its thick shade, in its 
green alleys ! What violets have I gathered in it in the 
month of April, and what lilies of the valley in the month of 
May ! What strawberries, blackberries, and nuts, I have 
eaten in it ! What butterflies I have chased there ! What 
nests I have discovered ! What sweet per' fumes * have I 
inhaled ! What verses have I there made ! How often have 
I gone thither at the close of day, to see the glorious sun set, 
coloring with red and gold the white trunks of the birch- 
trees around me ! 

This wood was not mine ; it belonged to an old bed-ridden 
miser, who had, perhaps, never been in it in his life — and 
yet it belonged to him, from the french of karr. 



ON EARLY RISING. 

Falsely luxurious, will not man awake, 
And, springing from the bed of sloth, enjoy 
The cool, the fragrant, and the silent hour, 
To meditation due, and sacred song ? — 
Wildered and tossing through distempered dreams, — 
Who would in such a gloomy state remain 
Longer than nature craves, when every Muse 
And every blooming pleasure wait without 
^ To bless the wildly-devious morning walk ? 

THOMSON. 

* Perfume, when a noun, has the accent on the first syllable ; when a 
verb; on the last. 



THE PRIMAllY STANDAKD SPEAKER. 



151 




THE BOBOLINK AND THE SPORTSMAN. — A Fable. 
A Bobolink, whose lucky lot 
It was to dodge a sportsman's shot, 
Perched on a hemlock-bough, began 
To taunt the disappointed man : — 

" Click ! bang ! Put in more powder, Mister ! 
Tall shooting that ! Call in your sister ! 
Shoot with a shovel, you'd do better ! 
Ha ! Rip-si-da'dy ! I 'm your debtor ! 
Chick-a-dee-dee ! Don't pine in sorrow I 
You could n't do it. Call to-morrow ! 
You '11 always find me in. Tip-wheet ! 
You 're a great fool ! Hip !^ Zip ! Bang ! Skeet ! 
Lick-a-tee-split ! No, no ! You can't ! — 
My best remembrance to your aunt ! 
Chick-a-dee-dee ! Tip-wheet ! I never 
Felt better ! Bobolinks for ever ! 
You thought you had me fast asleep. — 
Excuse my laughing : you look cheap. 
Come, try again ; don't quit your gaming ; 
I feel so safe when you are aiming ! " 



152 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

The sportsman angry grew : another 
Drew near, and. thus addressed his brother : 
" When your attempts to injure fail, 
Complain not if your victim rail/' 



THE THUNDER-SHOWER. 

Since morning the heavens have been concealed by thick 
clouds ; the air is heavy, and respiration difficult. The birds 
have ceased to sing ; the bees will not go beyond the garden- 
walls ; the flowers, half-faded, seem to languish on their 
stalks ; swallows fly about, skimming the earth. 

A flash of lightning gleams from a black cloud, and is fol- 
lowed by a heavy, distant soimd. The flashes soon become 
more frequent, the peals of thunder nearer ; then the clouds 
burst,"^ and the rain falls in torrents ! 

And then the freshened air deliciously dilates the lungs ; 
the honeysuckles spread abroad their sweetest per fumes ; the 
earth itself throws up a delightful odor ; the rain has ceased, 
and the sun converts into fiery diamonds the drops suspended 
from the leaves of the trees. Pardon me, beautiful drops of 
rain, for comparing you to diamonds ! 

The birds sing, the flowers resume their splendor, and lift 
up their heads. Every thing is revived, fresh, smiling, happy ! 



SPEECH OF A POCOMTUCK INDIAN. 

White man, there is eternal war between me and thee. I 
quit not the land of my fathers, but with my life. Whither 
shall I fly ? Shall I wander to the west ? — The fierce Mo- 
hawk, the man-eater, is my foe. Shall I fly to the east ? — The 

* The ur in burst and the ir in first have the sound of er in her. 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 153 

great water is before me. No, stranger : here I have lived, 
and here will I die ; and, if here thou abidest, there is eter- 
nal war between me and thee. Thou hast taught me thy arts 
of destruction ; for that alone I thank thee. And now take 
heed to thy steps : the red man is thy foe. When thou goest 
forth by day, my bullet shall whistle by thee ; when thou liest 
down at night, my knife shall be at thy throat. The noon- 
day sun shall not discover thy enemy, and the darkness of 
midnight shall not protect thy rest. Thou shalt plant in ter- 
ror, and I will reap in blood ; thou shalt sow the earth with 
corn, and I will strew it with ashes ; thou shalt go forth 
with the sickle, and I will follow after with the scalping- 
knife ; thou shalt build, and I will burn, till the white man 
or the Indian shall cease from the land ! everett. 



THE WOLF AND THE KID.— A Fable. 

Cowards most insolent appear 

When sure that they have naught to fear. 

A Kid, who felt secure and bold, 
High walled within his master's fold, 
Seeing a Wolf beneath him go, 
Cried out, "Thief! villain! booby! Ho! 
Come up here, and I '11 put you through ! — ' 
You dare not ? What, a coward too ? 
Look here, old fellow ! how 's your mother ? 
Are you as handsome as your brother ? 
Before you go, unless you 'd grieve me, 
Don't fail a lock of hair to leave me. 
You sneaking rascal, base and cruel, 
Come here, I '11 serve you out your gruel ! 
You would n't like me for your dinner ? 
0, no ! you old bloodthirsty sinner ! 



154 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

Only come here, and you shall find 
Some grub not wholly to your mind ! 
Of you, and twenty like you, I 
Am not afraid. Come on and try ! — 
But here 's my master, with his rifle : 
Be off, you scamp ! your time you trifle." 

The Wolf looked up and shook his head, 
And, smiling grimly, merely said, 
" My dear, rail on ! I care not how — 
For 'tis the wall that speaks, not thou." 



GREAT RESULTS FROM SMALL CAUSES. 

From trifling causes what mighty effects may flow ! Events 
which seemed insignificant at the moment, have been the germ 
of the most momentous consequences. 

A spectacle-maker's boy was one day amusing himself in 
his father's shop by holding two glasses between his finger 
and thumb. By varying their distance, the weathercock of 
the church-spire opposite to him seemed larger and nearer, 
and turned upside down. He showed it to his father ; it 
excited his wonder, and led to experiments which resulted 
in that astonishing instrument, the telescope, as invented by 
Gal-i-le'o, and perfected by Herschel. 

On the same optical principles was constructed the micro- 
scope, by which we perceive that a drop of stagnant water is 
a world teeming with inhabitants. 

By the telescope, the experimental philosopher measures 
the ponderous globes, that the Omnipotent Hand has ranged 
in majestic order through the skies; by the microscope, he 
sees that the same hand has rounded and polished five thou- 
sand minute transparent globes in the eye of a fly. Yet all 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 155 

these discoveries of modern science, exhibiting the intelli- 
gence, dominion, and agency of God, we owe to the transient 
amusement of a child ! 



SAUL, BEFORE HIS LAST BATTLE. 
Warriors and chiefs ! should the shaft or the sword 
Pierce me in leading the hosts of the Lord, 
Heed not the corse, though a king's, in your path ; 
Bury your steel in the bosom of Gath ! 

Thou who art bearing my buckler and bow. 
Should the soldiers of Saul look away from the foe. 
Stretch me that moment in blood at thy feet ! 
Mine be the doom which they dared not to meet I 

Farewell to others, but never we part. 
Heir to my royalty, son of my heart I 
Bright is the diadem, boundless the sway. 
Or kingly the death, which awaits us to-day. 

J3YR0N. 



COMMON BOUNTIES. 

'/ Is it not a beautiful Hower ? " I asked, plucking a violet, 
and offering it to my friend. — " Yes, but then it is so com- 
mon! " said he. — " And why should we prize its beauty the 
less on that account ? " 

Thanks, Lord, for all that thou hast created common I 
Thanks for the blue heavens, the sun, the stars, murmuring 
waters, and the shade of embowering oaks ! Thanks for the 
corn-flowers of the fields and the gilly-flowers ^ of the walls ! 
Thanks for the songs of the robin, and the hymns of the 

* Pronounced jilly -flower. The word is said to be corrupted from July- 
flower. 



156 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

nightingale ! Thanks for the per'fumes of the air, and the 
sighing of the winds among the trees ! Thanks for the mag- 
nificent clouds gilded by the sun at its setting and rising ! 
Thanks for love, the most common sentiment of all ! Thanks 
for all the beautiful things which Thy stupendous bounty has 
made common I 

EXECUTION OF ANDREW HOFER. 

Andrew Hofer, a gallant leader of the Tyrolese, was shot by his 
country's oppressors, February 20th, 1810. — In pronouncing Tyrol, 
put the accent on the last syllable. 

At Mantua, in chains, the gallant Hofer lay ; 

In Mantua, to death, the foe led him away ; 

Right bravely had he striven, in arms, to make a stand 

Por freedom and Ty-rof, his own fair mountain land. 

His hands behind him clasped, with firm and measured pace, 
Marched Andrew Hofer on : he feared not death to face ; 
*' Ty-rof, I hoped to see your sons and daughters free ! 
Farewell, my mountain land ! a last farewell ! " said he 

The drummer's hand reftised to beat the funeral march 
While Andrew Hofer passed the portal's gloomy arch : 
He on the bastion stood, the shackles on his arm, 
But proudly and erect, as if he feared no harm. 

They bade him then kneel down: said he, "That will I not ! 
Here standing will I die, as I have stood and fought ! 
No tyrant's power shall claim from me the bended knee ; 
I '11 die as I have lived — for thee, Ty-rol', for thee ! " 

A grenadier then took the bandage from his hand, 
While Hofer breathed a prayer, his last on earthly land : 
" Aim well, my lads ! " said he : — the soldiers aimed and fired. 
" For thee, Ty-rof , I die ! " said Hofer — and expired. 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER 157 

THE STEP-LADDER.— A Fable. 

Once on a time, a sparrow, while on the look-out for some- 
thing to eat, caught a big blue-bottle fly on a branch of a 
weeping-willow. " ! let me go, there 's a good fellow," 
cried the fly. — "No," said the murderer, " not at all ! for I 
am big, and you are small." 

While the sparrow was swallowing the poor fly, a sparrow- 
hawk pounced on the bird, and clutched him in his talons. 
" ! let me go ! What have I done ? Be merciful I " cried 
the sparrow. — " No," said the murderer, *' not at all ! for I 
am big, and you are small." 

An eagle spied the sport, and thought he would drop in to 
have a bit of dinner : so he seized the sparrow-hawk by the 
throat. " 0, please your majesty, let me go ! " cried the spar- 
row-hawk ; *' have mercy on a worthless sinner." — " Pooh ! " 
said the murderer ; " not at all I for I am big, and you are 
small." 

While the eagle was picking the sparrow-hawk's bones, an 
archer came along with his bow and arrow, and, spying the 
eagle, sent an arrow to his heart. " Ah me ! how cruel ! " 
exclaimed the eagle. — " Nonsense ! " quoth the archer ; *^ not 
at all ! for I am big, and you are small ! " 



ON INAUGURATINa THE STATUE OF WARREN, 

ON BUNKER HILL, JUNE 17TH, 1857. 

My friends, let the recollections of a common danger and a 
common glory bring with them the strengthened love of a 
common country. It may be doubted whether the most bril- 
liant success on Bunker Hill could have done as much to 
bind the colonies together as the noble, though in its imme- 
diate results unavailing, resistance; the profuse, though at 
the time unprofitable, outpouring of human blood. 
14 



158 THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 

A great revolution must be inaugurated with a great sacri- 
fice, and all the loftier passions are ennobled by the purifica- 
tion of sorrow ; nor is it certain that Warren, had he assumed 
the command and driven the enemy back to his boats, would 
have done as much to kindle a chastised and resolute enthu- 
siasm throughout the country, and unite the colonies in the 
impending struggle, as when he shouldered his musket and 
fell in the ranks. 

And, ! my friends, let the lesson of fraternal affection 
which he taught us in his death be repeated in the persuasive 
silence of those stony lips ! In his own heart-stirring lan- 
guage, let ^' the voice of our fathers' blood cry to us from the 
ground ; " and, upon this sacred day, and on this immortal 
hill, let it proclaim a truce to sectional alienation and party 
strife. 

Wherever else the elements of discord may rage, let the 
billows sink down, and the storm be hushed, like yonder 
placid waves, at the foot of Bunker Hill ! Here let the 
kindly feelings that animated our fathers revive in the bosoms 
of their sons, assured that — should "malice domestic or for- 
eign levy" invade us — if living champions should fail, that 
monumental cheek would burn with the glow of patriotism, 
that marble sword would leap from its scabbard, and the 
heaving sods of Bunker Hill give up their sheeted regiments 
to the defence of the Union ! everett. 



THE HELP OF THE HUMBLE. 

Small service is true service while it lasts ; 

Of friends, however humble, scorn not one : 
The daisy, by the shadow that it casts, 

Protects the lingering dew-drop from the sun. 

WORDSWORTH 



J 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 159 

THE PRUSSIA^^ GENERAL ON THE RHINE. 

'T WAS on the Rhine the armies lay : — 
To France or not ? Is 't yea or nay ? 
They pondered long, and pondered well ; 
At length old Blucher broke the spell : 

" Bring here the map to me ! 
The road to France is straight and free : — 
AVhere is the foe ? ^'— " The foe ? Why, here ! "— 
" We '11 beat him. Forward ! Never fear ! 
Say, where lies Paris ? '' — " Paris ? — here ! " 
" We 11 take it. Forward ! Never fear ! 
So throw a bridge across the Rhine : 
Methinks the Frenchman's sparkling wine 
Will taste the best where grows the vine I " 

FROM THE GERMAN OF KOPISCH. 



THE BETTER LAND. 



I HEAR thee speak of the better land : 
Thou cali'st its children a happy band ; 
Mother, 0, where is that radiant shore — 
Shall we not seek it, and weep no more ? 
Is it where the flower of the orange blows, 
And the fire-flies dance through the myrtle boughs ? 
" Not there, not there, my child." 

Is it where the feathery palm-trees rise, 
And the date grows ripe under sunny skies, 
Or 'mid the green islands of glittering seas, 
Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze, 
And strange bright birds on their starry wings 
Bear the rich hues of all glorious things ? 
" Not there, not there, my child." 



160 



THE PRIMARY STANDARD SPEAKER. 



Is it far away in some region old, 
Where the rivers wander o'er sands of gold, — 
Where the burning rays of the ruby shine, 
And the diamond lights up the secret mine, 
And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand, — 
Is it there, sweet mother, that better land ? 
" Not there, not there, my child. 

" Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy ! 
Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy, 
Dreams can not picture a world so fair, — 
Sorrow and death may not enter there ; 
Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom, 
Por beyond the clouds, and beyond the tomb. 
It is there, it is there, my child ! " 

MRS. HEM AN S. 




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